


This Song's For You

by fadingtales



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Music, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadingtales/pseuds/fadingtales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After mysteriously disappearing for five years, music legend Oliver Queen reemerges to produce the debut album for new singer Felicity Smoak. The last thing he expected when tasked to the job would would be that he would fall for his new artist. But as Felicity’s music gains media attention, so does Oliver’s dark past. Music!AU, Olicity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

 

Oliver didn’t want to be here. Everything Digg was saying went completely over his head. The sounds of his longtime friend and the other music execs were nothing more than a buzzing drone in his ear.

 

“These are the ten people we narrowed it down to.”

 

All the videos they were playing for him blurred together. The company ran a contest over the summer and now he was supposed to choose the new debut artist for Queen Records. It would be his first act as CEO now that his father has relinquished the reins. So far he was doing a terrible job at it. He hadn’t come back for this, but his sister Thea had told him that if he didn't’ stop moping around she’d stop talking to him. He’s lost so much already, he couldn’t lose her too. So he had agreed. It didn’t mean he was happy about it.

 

Digg finally noticed his unfocused eyes and sighed.

 

“Oliver,” Digg called his name. By the time he finally looked up, Digg must have said it at least three times. “You have to choose one of them.”

 

He didn’t want to be here. Everything about the room reminded him of Tommy. He glanced to the left and saw Tommy’s old guitar, still hung up where he had last left it. Digg followed his line of sight and motioned for someone to remove it. An assistant stood up and moved toward it, but before he could touch Tommy’s guitar Oliver shot up in his seat.

 

“Leave it,” he growled. He didn’t mean it to sound so harsh, but he did, judging by the terrified look on the assistant’s face. The kid glanced nervously at Digg and Digg merely shook his head and the kid backed off.

 

“We should’ve met somewhere else,” Digg muttered under his breath. “Everything here triggers you. You gotta learn to let go, Oliver. It’s been five years.”

 

Has it really been so long? Oliver felt the pain as raw as if it were yesterday.

 

Digg sighed again, his millionth one, all he does is sigh with Oliver now. There used to be a time when he laughed instead, but Oliver could barely remember that now.

 

“Let’s call it a night,” Digg said, facing the other music producers in the room.

 

Just before the screen flicked off a familiar note filled the room. From the stricken look on Digg’s face, Oliver knew that he recognized it too.

 

“Turn that thing off!” Digg commanded, but Oliver cut him off.

 

“I want to hear it!”

 

Digg glared at him, his expression full of his own grief and frustration, but a bit of understanding too. Finally his gaze softened and he nodded, sinking back down in his seat.

 

Oliver felt his heart pounding as he watched the blonde on the TV screen smile shyly at the camera, readjusting the glasses on her face. Her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, the end in wisps around her shoulder. She had been playing a few notes, the ones Oliver recognized, but her fingers stumbled and she smiled sheepishly at the camera.

 

“Whoops, sorry. Butter fingers there…” she said. “Let’s try that again…”

 

She took a deep breath and began strumming again. Oliver leaned forward in his seat unconsciously.

 

 **_*_ ** _My baby don't mess around_

_Because she loves me so_

_And this I know for sure..._

 

It’s the same words, but the tempo is slower. And it bowls Oliver over that Tommy’s words, his lyrics, could sound so different and yet…

 

_If what they say is "Nothing is forever"_

_Then what makes, then what makes, love the exception?_

_So why you, why you_

_Why you, why you, why you are we so in denial_

_When we know we're not happy here..._

 

The girl on the screen closes her eyes for a moment, as if in prayer, and she sings…

 

_Hey ya, hey ya..._

 

Oliver didn’t realize he’d started crying until the tear drop hit his clench palms. The girl finished the song with a few repeats of the chorus and some final strums and then silence filled the room. Everyone was watching him.

 

“Her,” he said, his voice more hoarse than he’d like. He cleared his throat and tried again. This time his choice was clear. “I choose her.”

 

XXXXX

  
* This song is not actually written by Tommy Merlyn (I’m just going to pretend it’s his for the purpose of this fic), it is ‘Hey Ya’ by Outkast and the version I’m referencing here is a cover by Sarah Blasko which you can listen to here! http://youtu.be/Mf339KTTdUA No copyright infringement intended. I will be doing this with other songs in future chapters because I can't write original songs… but I will be sure to credit the original artist and/or cover artist in the author notes so please do check them out!


	2. The Producer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Excited for this story to begin! This is unbeta’d so please forgive any mistakes and point them out if you see them. All comments and reviews are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

**Chapter One:**

 

Felicity Smoak clenched the strap to her carry-on luggage so tightly her knuckles turned white, fingernails digging into her palm.

 

“Stop that.”

 

Beside her, Barry, her best friend and the evil mastermind behind her predicament, squished her cheeks with one hand, making her lips pucker like a fish. She’d been worrying her bottom lip so much she was starting to taste blood in her mouth.

 

“You’re gonna bite that lip clean off at the rate you’re going.”

 

She narrowed her eyes in a glare at him. The ridiculous face she made only made him laugh. She pushed his hand away, still glaring.

 

“This is all your fault you know.”

 

Barry raised an eyebrow. “When you say ‘this is all my fault’ what you mean is ‘thank you so much, Barry, for being responsible for the best thing that has ever happened to me in my entire life’, right?”

 

Felicity heaved a deep sigh. He wasn’t wrong. This _was_ the best thing that has ever happened to her in her entire life. It was also the most terrifying, crazy thing. And right now the terrifying and crazy part is the one that has her one step away from hyperventilating into a paper bag.

 

“I still can’t believe you submitted that video to the contest. I was just messing around! I wasn’t even being serious!”

 

She cringed as she remembered what she had been wearing when Barry shot that video. If she knew that millions of people would be watching it, she’d have at least combed her hair more or something.

 

“Again,” Barry began, smug grin on his face, “what you really mean is that you still can’t believe how absolutely awesome I am, right?”

 

She punched his arm, but then pulled him into a tight hug to make up for it.

 

“Thank you, Barry,” she whispered into his ear.

 

He hugged her even tighter. “Anything for you, Felicity.”

 

They stayed that way for a while. Felicity didn’t want to let go of Barry. Letting go of him would mean leaving. And she wasn’t sure if she was ready for a whole new city, a whole new life. It felt like everything just happened overnight and she was still reeling from it all.

 

Overhead they heard the announcement that her flight was boarding. First class. She’d never flown anything but coach before. And that had only been once.

 

Barry broke the hug first. “Now come on! You gotta get on that plane. Don’t want to keep all those high powered music execs waiting.”

 

Felicity nodded fervently and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She still couldn’t believe all this was happening.

 

“My mo-” she began, but Barry cut her off with a swift shake of his head.

 

“Don’t worry about her. This is about you. Don’t let her take over.”

 

“Easier said than done,” Felicity drawled, but she tried to plaster on a smile for Barry. “Okay! I’m gonna do this! I can do this!” She turned around slowly, starting toward her boarding gate.

 

“Go get em, Smoaky Bear!” Barry called out from behind her.

 

Felicity shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder, she hated that childhood nickname, but quickly replaced it with a smile. She knew he was worried about her, so she didn’t want the last expression he saw before she left to be a scowling one.

 

And then, with one final huge heaving of her lungs, she placed her earbud into her ear, adjusted the straps of her carry-on and walked onto the plane. No more looking back.

 

xxx

 

The flight from Vegas to L.A. was only a little over an hour, yet when she stepped off the plane and arrived at LAX, she felt like she was in a whole other world. After she grabbed the rest of her luggage from baggage claim she exited into the streets and was met with a crowd of screaming fans surrounding a group of four bodyguards and one chauffeur. The chauffeur was holding up a sign with her name scrawled across it.

 

“Holy…” she breathed. She knew her video had gone viral and that the announcement of her win was big, but she didn’t realize it was _this_ big.

 

The chauffeur stepped forward and took her luggage right out of her hand. “Ms. Smoak, this way, please.”

 

He gestured her towards the open door. Behind the wall of security, fans were screaming her name, hand-made posters gripped in their hands. Felicity shyly waved and their screaming went up an octave. What struck her though were the handful of people booing back. They held up signs that read: “ISABEL ROCHEV WAS ROBBED!” and “FELICITY SMOAK CAN’T SING”. And although their shouts were but a whisper compared to her fans, Felicity felt their words like a punch to the gut.

 

“Ms. Smoak, quickly, please. We have a schedule to meet.”

 

Felicity shook her head, coming out of her darkening thoughts. “Oh!” she said, embarrassed. “Yes, yes of course.” And quickly ducked into the waiting limo.

 

She barely got in when she glanced up and met the smiling face of John Diggle, king of R&B and now music executive extraordinaire. She let out a small yelp in surprise and nearly fell face first into his lap in her rush to clamber into the limo.

 

“Ms. Smoak, are you quite alright?” Diggle had uncrossed his legs and was reaching out toward her with one hand.

 

“I-I’m fine, thanks,” she managed, readjusting her skewed glasses.

 

She took the seat opposite of him and tried to subtly smooth her sweaty palms over her pant leg. She swallowed thickly and sat up straighter, attempting to regain any sort of composure she had left.

 

“You’re John Diggle,” she said and then mentally slapped herself for stating the obvious.

 

“I am,” he replied, smile still firmly in place. He had recrossed his legs and was looking at her with an amused expression.

 

“I mean, I know you are. Of course,” She amended quickly. “Everyone knows who _you_ are. I was just… sort of surprised to see you _here…_ picking little ole me up.”

 

Diggle laughed, he was liking this kid already. She didn’t have a sense of entitlement like so many of the youtube stars nowadays.

 

“I wanted to personally meet our newest artist, make sure everything is going smoothly for you. I assume the flight went well?”

 

“Yes, yes. Thank you for arranging for that,” she said, “And for the apartment… and for this record deal… thanks for everything, basically.”

 

Diggle laughed again. “You’re very welcome, Ms. Smoak.”

 

“Call me Felicity, please. Ms. Smoak is my mom and she’s not here, _thank god_ , but if she was and you called us both Ms. Smoak that would be incredibly confusing.” She was putting her foot in her mouth again.

 

“Then call me Digg. All my friends do,” Diggle replied.

 

Felicity blinked at him. Does this mean they were friends?

 

Diggle laughed and she realized she had asked the question aloud. “I’d like to be,” he said, not insincerely. “You’re quite refreshing.”

 

Felicity truly blushed at that. “Thanks,” she said shyly.

 

Diggle’s expression turned serious then. “That said, you should learn to not wear your emotions so easily on your face. The music industry is not viable for someone with thin skin and you’re in it big time now. There will be times when you will have to let criticism roll off your back.”

 

“Right! Of course!” Felicity agreed, trying desperately to ignore the knots in her stomach as she remembered the Isabel Rochev posters in the crowd back at the airport.

 

“Our people are still getting your apartment ready for your arrival so I thought you’d like a tour of the offices first.”

 

After a bit of a drive the limo slowed to a stop and the driver quickly made his way over to open the door for them. Diggle got out in one smooth motion and Felicity scrambled to follow suit.

 

As she got out of the car she blinked at the bright afternoon L.A. sun. Diggle slid a pair of sunglasses over his eyes.

 

“Whoa,” she breathed as her vision cleared and she took in the enormity of the Queen Records building. She knew the Queens were royalty in the music business, but only now did she truly realize the extent of their power. The skyscraper before her truly seemed to scrape the sky, it was just that huge.

 

“You coming, Ms. Smoak?” Diggle called over his shoulder. He had already started toward the building.

 

“Absolutely!” Felicity exclaimed, trying her best to walk, not run, after him.

 

The next hour was a dizzying tour of Queen Records’ headquarters. She shook over a hundred different hands and was introduced to everyone who worked for the label and possibly their moms. There were so many offices and so many different floors that she felt completely overloaded.

 

“And this,” Digg stopped in front of a dark haired young woman, dressed impeccably in black slacks and a black t-shirt. “is Shado.”

 

Felicity gaped unabashedly. Standing before her was a music _legend_. Shado was one of the best music producers in the business and here she was, little old Felicity Smoak, shaking hands with her.

 

“You might want to close your mouth, Felicity. Wouldn’t want you to get a dry throat before we even begin recording,” John Diggle said, not unkindly.

 

Felicity immediately snapped her mouth shut. She could feel her ears heating up.

 

“Oh my god, I’m just… I’m just so excited to meet you. I mean, you’re just so amazing and I just admire your work so, so much.”

 

Shado was grinning and Felicity felt all the more starstruck. “I’m sorry, I’m babbling. It’s just… I can’t believe I got to shake your hand!”

 

“You still are,” Shado said with a quick glance downwards to their clasped hands.

 

“Oh!” Felicity immediately let go. “I’m so sorry, I was just-”

 

Shado held her, now free, hand up. “No worries. I’m actually really flattered.”

 

Felicity’s head was spinning. This couldn’t be real. She was just some unknown from the ghettos of Vegas and now…

 

“Are you going to produce my album?” The words leapt out of her mouth before she had a chance to think. “Not that I’m trying to be presumptuous or anything! But I have to tell you, that if you were, it would just blow my mind.”

 

Both Shado and Digg smiled. They rather liked the quirky blonde.

 

“Unfortunately, Shado’s schedule is packed at the moment so she wouldn’t be handling your debut.”

 

“Oh,” Felicity tried not to let the disappointment tinge her response, but she failed anyways. She shook her head and tried not to sound ungrateful, but they’ve toured basically all of the studio and she’s met everyone on her team except for the one person who was supposed to make her album happen. “Then may I ask who will be producing me?”

 

“ _Me_.”

 

The voice had come from behind her and Felicity whirled around to face the speaker. Walking towards her was none other than Oliver Queen, head of Queen Records, himself.

 

The shock and starstruck of meeting both John Diggle and Shado did not compare to anything she felt meeting Oliver Queen. The man hadn’t been seen in public for the past five years after all. He had very much become a _myth_. To her a sighting of Oliver Queen was akin to a sighting of Big Foot. Then again, it seemed like all her fairy tale dreams were coming true as of late. For all she knew Big Foot and Oliver Queen were one and the same. That is if Big Foot was tall, handsome, had the most piercing blue eyes, and donned suits that molded to six pack abs. Not that she noticed any of that in any particular detail.

 

“I don’t think my introduction is needed, is it?” Oliver’s blue eye gaze was steely.

 

Felicity shook her head, unable to form a single word from her mouth.

 

“Very good then. Do you have your contract?” Oliver asked perfunctorily.

 

His question snapped her to attention. “Oh! Yes.”

 

She quickly rummaged through her purse and pulled out a thick manila envelope. She handed it to him and was proud of herself when her hand didn’t tremble.

 

Oliver quickly disposed of the envelope and flipped to the signature page of the contract. With a gesture of his hand his assistant, a young urban looking kid in a red hoodie, handed him a pen. Oliver glanced up at her once, signed the document under her signature, and then slapped the contract into his waiting assistant’s hands.

 

“From this moment on, I own you,” he declared.

 

Felicity could feel her hair stand on its ends.

 

“That means that I will tell you when you sleep, when you wake, when you eat, and most importantly,” he seemed to pause here for dramatic effect, “when you sing.”

 

Felicity stared at him with wide eyes. What the hell did she just get herself into? Oliver gave her a once over.

 

“We’ll also have a stylist to decide on what you wear. You are the image of Queen Records now, Ms. Smoak. And as CEO of Queen Records, I care very much about my image.”  


“I can tell,” she said. She nearly facepalmed. Had she really said that?

 

He almost smiled. Almost.

 

“I was just showing her around the offices, Oliver,” Diggle supplied. He had been watching the entire scene with much amusement.

 

“Has she seen the studio?” Oliver asked, still not taking his eyes off of Felicity.

 

“No, not yet.”

 

“Good. Then let’s go.”

  
Oliver turned around and started walking without waiting to see if they followed. Of course they did. Felicity is pretty sure that if it were Roman days, soldiers would’ve followed Oliver Queen to the ends of the earth. He just demanded that kind of attention. Once again she found herself asking, _what the hell did she get herself into?_


	3. Everything's Starting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Delving a little bit more into Oliver’s past. I’m having fun sharing some of my favorite covers and songs through this fic. Eventually I’ll make a 8tracks mix for it. Do shoot me suggestions of songs you’d like featured! As always, reviews, comments, kudos, and likes are all appreciated! =)

**Chapter Two:**

 

_"Come on, Oliver." Laurel grunted with the weight of him. "You're gonna have to help me a little here. We got to get you home."_

 

_He doesn’t remember what he said in response. All he knew was that he slurring his words and his breath stank of booze._

 

 _"You're drunk," she said, half shoving, half hauling him up._ _"Goddammit, Oliver!"_

 

Diggle’s hand on his shoulder shook him from his memories.

 

“How are you holding up?” the older man asked.

 

“She’s good,” he said. “Still a little raw, but we’ll get her some more vocal training and-”

 

“That’s not what I asked,” Diggle said, his tone firm.

 

Oliver sighed and shrugged. “As best as I can be.”

 

“Sara tells me that you asked her to prescribe you some sleeping pills.”

 

Oliver laughed without humor. “Sara is violating some patient-doctor confidentiality.” It is a messed up world where Laurel Lance’s sister is the one counseling him on his disastrous relationships.

 

Diggle notched one eyebrow upwards. “Sara does not count as your psychiatrist. She’s your friend, as am I, and she’s concerned about you. And since you refuse to see anyone else… well… I guess she’s the best you got, but she’s too close to this. You know that, Oliver. I think it would be better if you got some real counseling.”

 

“It’s been five years, Digg. It’s a little too late for counseling don’t you think?”

 

“Yes, it’s been five years. And that’s why you still need that counseling,” Diggle retorted. “You gotta talk to somebody, somebody not involved with any of this. Someone who didn’t know Tommy and won’t be biased.”

 

“I’ll be fine. I’m here, aren’t I?”

 

Diggle fixed him with a hard gaze. “Are you really?”

 

Oliver avoided the question. “Let’s just focus on making this debut album a knock out, alright?” Oliver squeezed Digg’s shoulder once and tried to smile reassuringly. It doesn’t quite succeed. Before Diggle could say more, Oliver pushed the talkback button and spoke into the microphone, “You ready to go again, Ms. Smoak?”

 

Felicity nodded at him on the other side of the glass. They’d been running through test songs to see her vocal range. Felicity has a knack for doing unique covers and Oliver’s assistant, Roy, was having fun throwing R&B, hip hop, and even the occasional rap at her to see what she can do. The results were rather impressive.

 

Earlier they also had her try playing various instruments. Oliver was surprised when she was capable of playing nearly every single one they handed to her. He had asked her if she had been trained classically and she had retorted with, “If you count youtube tutorials on Mozart as classical training, then yeah.” He tried not to smile at that. It was strange the way she kept saying things that made him want to smile. He tried his best to ignore the feeling.

 

She was back on the guitar now. It seemed to be her favorite. “Mind if I choose the next song?” she asked.

 

Oliver hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded. Felicity grinned at the small victory, fist pumped in the air. He’d been bossing her around the entire day.

 

“See if you guys can recognize this one,” she said before placing the headphones over her ears.

 

The melody was familiar, but Oliver didn’t catch on until Felicity opened her mouth and started singing.

 

_I got chills, they're multiplying...*_

 

Felicity Smoak has managed caught him off guard again. And from the way she looked up at him, hopeful and bright eyed, she doesn’t even seem to know it.

 

_And I'm losing control_

_'Cause the power you're supplying_

 

She has on a tiny smile as she sings, like she knows a secret that he doesn’t.

 

_It's electrifying_

 

She doesn’t know how much she was affecting him. How much the song she was singing conjured up memories of lazy Sundays with Tommy and him lounging around in Tommy’s living room watching stupid old movies. How much it made him near tears to hear it again. Every single word a trigger.

 

_You're the one that I want, ooh ooh ooh,_

_The one that I want_

 

She hasn’t even finished the final note when he pressed down on the intercom.

 

“That’s enough.”

 

It comes out a bit harsher than he expected and he can see the startled look in his eyes. Immediately guilt gnawed at him and he coughed before speaking again, this time in a kinder tone.

 

“That was good… We’ll call it a day for now. I’ll see you bright and early with your stylist tomorrow morning.”

 

He didn’t wait to see her response, immediately taking off and slamming the door shut behind him.

 

xxx

 

Oliver woke up with the smell of burning rubber and the image of contorted metal still vivid in his head. He sat up, waiting for his heartbeat to calm. He should be used to the dreams by now, but how can someone ever get used to watching their best friend die again and again every time they closed their eyes?

 

He reached over to his bedside table, his hand trembling as he groped blindly for the pill bottle that he knew was supposed to be there. The clock on his wall said it was only 8 PM. He’d only slept three hours since he left the recording studio. His fingers curled around the plastic bottle and he quickly popped the cap open, spilling two pills into his hand. He popped them in his mouth and swallowed them without water. After a moment he looked down again, at the remaining pills in the bottle. They seemed to leer at him. He spilled the rest of the contents into his palm. It wasn't the first time he contemplated knocking back a handful. He was supposed to be dead anyways. This was stolen time he had. Time he had stolen from Tommy.

 

Too bad he was such a coward.

 

He clenched his hand into a fist, the pills spilled over and ricocheted off the hardwood floor. He got up, not bothering to pick up the dropped pills. He grabbed his keys as he headed down towards the garage. It was stupid to go out after taking the pills, but he felt like doing something stupid at the moment.

 

He stopped for a moment as he passed by his car, but quickly moved past it, favoring his motorbike instead. Driving was a demon unto itself and he still wasn’t ready for that. If he was gonna crash let it be flying through the air, not crushed inside a tin can.

 

He rode around aimlessly until he ended up at the grocery store, remembering that he still needed to buy milk. He could’ve had someone pick it up for him, but Oliver needed to do something normal to forget the nightmares that were plaguing him. Buying milk was as normal as it could get.

 

That was a mistake from the start, thinking that his life could be anything but normal.

 

He ran into her, literally, about two aisles away from the milk and cereal.

 

“Oh sorry, I-” Her words died on her lips when she realized who he was.

 

This was the last place he had expected he’d run into her. He knew she was still in the city, but this was L.A., a city filled with nearly four billion people. What were the odds?

 

Not in his favor apparently.

 

It’s been years, but she still looks the same. She’s still beautiful.But Oliver couldn’t stand to look at Laurel for too long before the guilt ate away at him and from the expression on her face, the pure hatred, she couldn’t look at him either. “It should’ve been you who died” her eyes seemed to say. He wouldn’t contradict her if she said it aloud. It should’ve been him. It was his fault. Tommy was only trying to look out for him and look at where he ended up. Laurel will never forgive Oliver for killing her fiancé and Oliver would never forgive himself for it.

 

Oliver glanced down and his eyes met those of the little boy pressed against Laurel’s side. The air in Oliver’s lungs got knocked out him at the sight. Laurel’s glare turned frantic and she shielded the little boy from Oliver’s view.

 

“Is he…?” Oliver couldn’t finish the question.

 

“You stay the hell away from us,” Laurel declared. And without another word she swept her son into her arms and took off, leaving Oliver staring after them.

 

He went home without any milk.

 

xxx

 

Felicity was escorted to her brand new apartment, courtesy of Queen Records, shortly after Oliver’s abrupt departure. The entire day felt like a whirlwind of events. She quickly set her luggage down and collapsed on the bed. A Cal King, she noticed. The label does nothing in halves. And apparently, neither does its CEO.

 

She closed her eyes and bit back a surge of homesickness. It’s been barely twenty four hours yet she felt absolutely drained. Oliver Queen was a real slave driver. Despite all that, a sudden memory of Oliver Queen with his eyebrow raised, mouth parted in shock, had her smiling. She took real pleasure in seeing the stoic and broody Oliver Queen show some real emotion. She wanted to prove to him that she belonged here. That she was good enough.

 

Rumors had it that Oliver was forced to come back to the company when his father announced his retirement. From what Felicity had seen, she’s willing to believe that rumor. Oliver didn’t look like he had wanted to be there. Whenever he wasn’t barking orders at her, she noticed a faraway look in his eyes. As if he wasn’t looking at any of them, as if he was seeing something else entirely.

 

There’d be a lot of speculation about Oliver’s disappearance from the music industry. People had thought it was grief at first. His best friend, hit songwriter, Tommy Merlyn, had died in an unfortunate car accident a few months prior. But then one year turned into two and then three and four and Oliver never came out of the hole he was hiding. People thought it was drugs, that he had been in rehab. He had been a party boy before so it wasn’t that much of a stretch. Felicity never really paid much attention the rumors, but now they floated around her head. She had to work with the guy after all. Her very dreams were being held in his hands.

 

She didn’t notice that she had fallen asleep until her phone buzzed. She rolled over to grab it from the night stand with a groan.

 

                _Cat’s out of the bag - B_

 

Felicity groaned. It was unrealistic to think that she could keep news this big from her mother, but somehow she and Barry had done a bang up job getting her to L.A. without her mother’s interference.

 

Donna Smoak was a force to be reckon with. And as much as Felicity loved her mother… well, her mother was her mother. She had a way of making everything about herself. And Felicity wanted to keep this her own. At least for a little while.

 

_I’ll stall as long as I can - B_

 

Felicity could hug Barry right now if she could. Again the homesickness washed over her. She sighed and sprang up from the bed, grabbing her guitar on her way out to the balcony. She needed to do something to calm all her nerves. Somehow her thoughts ended up drifting back to Oliver Queen and his lost, faraway eyes again and her fingers started playing Wonderwall**. She knows there are a million covers of it, but she loves it anyway.  

 

Halfway through the song she heard the sound of her upstairs neighbor’s door unlocking. They’d put her up in a swanky place while she was in town recording for the debut album. She’d been curious to see who was living up above her on the penthouse floor. It could even be a celebrity, she mused. This was Hollywood after all.

 

She strummed some more as she idly daydreamed about becoming best friends with Julia Roberts and the like.She was starting to hum when some definitive coughing interrupted her. She paused for a second, glancing around, but when she didn’t notice anyone she kept playing.

 

“Hey!”

 

Felicity stopped immediately, getting up from lounging position in her chair with her feet kicked up on the rails. She walked on over to the edge of the balcony, her guitar strapped to her back, and glanced around.

 

“Up here.”

 

Felicity looked up and to her total aghast, Oliver Queen was peering down at her from the floor above.

  
So much for Julia Robert daydreams.

 

XXXXXX

  
*Felicity’s cover is based on Julia Stone’s cover of You're The One That I Want. I absolutely LOVE this cover and you should totally check it out: youtu.be/-oibLVTGz0Y  
**Natalie Lungley’s cover of Wonderwall is one of my favorite covers: youtu.be/KkBE9pthYQw


	4. Almost Smiles

**Chapter Three:**

 

The first thing Oliver did in the morning was phone Diggle.

 

“Why the hell is Felicity Smoak underneath me?”

 

“Uhhh… I feel like that’s a very R-rated question for so early in the morning, Oliver,” Diggle replied, trying hard not to snicker. “I would have to get HR on that. Sexual harassment issues and all that.”

 

Oliver closed his eyes and counted to ten. “I mean,” he bit out, “what is she doing in the apartment below me? Last I checked I owned the entire building and I don’t remember signing up any new tenants.”

 

“Correction, the _label_ owns the building,” Diggle replied succinctly. “And besides… we thought that since you just came back, it might be good for you to be around more people. You know, make you feel more normal.”

 

Oliver knew how to read in between the lines. What Diggle meant was that it would be good if there was someone to keep an eye on him.

 

“I don’t need a babysitter, Digg,” he said through clenched teeth.

 

“She's not your babysitter,” Digg argued. “She’s your new artist. If anything, you’re _her_ babysitter.”

 

Digg’s logic didn’t make Oliver feel any better.

 

“Besides, maybe this way you two can bond. Help make the album even better. You used to do that you know, spend time with your artists?”

 

That felt like a whole other lifetime ago. Oliver rubbed his face with one hand. Diggle didn’t sound like he was willing to make any new arrangements and quite frankly, other than playing the guitar late into the night, Felicity hadn’t really been all that disruptive. He’d feel like an ass kicking her out.

 

“Fine,” he said and hung up without waiting for Diggle to respond.

 

Oliver glanced down at the floor. The walls in the building were too thick to hear any of his neighbors unless he was outside on the balcony, but he could almost _feel_ her presence below him.

 

It’s going to be a long six months.

 

xxx

 

Felicity couldn’t sleep after the run in with Oliver. Their conversation had been limited to him telling her to keep it down and to go to bed so she can be up early in the morning, yet somehow those few words made her feel like a scolded child. Throughout the rest of the night she kept twisting and turning in bed, thinking he could hear her even though she knew the place was much too fancy to not have good sound insulation.

 

The paranoia followed her as she went through her usual morning routine. Did she flush the toilet too loud? Oh god, if he could hear her every single time she flushed the toilet she would just die. She had to slap cold water on her face from just imagining the embarrassment. Finally she managed to get herself into some clothes and out the door.

 

Of course, when she got to the elevator there he was, standing by the door with his hands in his pocket. She wasn’t sure if he had been waiting for her. As she approached, he gave her a once over. She felt substantially self-conscious under his gaze.

 

“We’re supposed to meet my stylist today so I wasn’t quite sure what to wear,” she said.

 

“You look fine,” he replied. It was short, but Felicity felt her shoulders relaxing.

 

Finally the elevator doors dinged opened and Oliver stepped aside for her to enter first.

 

“After you,” he said.

 

She smiled tightly at him as she scampered inside. He joined her shortly and they rode all the way down to the lobby in excruciating awkward silence.

 

When the elevators dinged open, Felicity wasn’t quite sure what she was supposed to do. There was supposed to be a car waiting to take her to the stylist and photoshoot location, but Oliver was supposed to be there too, so does that mean they were going to ride together? Or was she still supposed to just meet him there? It felt like riding separately would be awfully inefficient and a waste of gas if they were all going to the same place.

 

She didn’t realize she had said all this aloud, something that she was noticing to be a rather common occurrence, until she looked up and saw him looking at her with an amused expression.

 

“You can ride with me,” Oliver said.

 

Felicity nodded and quickly followed him out to the front. She stopped abruptly when she realized what his ride was.

 

“Oh,” she said at the sight of the sleek custom black and green motorbike.

 

“Hop on,” he said, handing her a spare helmet from the backseat.

 

Felicity stared at him as if he had just grown a pair of horns. “No way.”

 

Oliver gave her a challenging look and gestured again with the helmet he was still holding out to her. Felicity just shook her head fervently.

 

“I’m kind of a chicken,” she confessed. “I know I may come off as scrappy, but let me assure you, I’m totally fragile. Like paper fragile. Definitely. I’ll just wait for the car, I guess.”

 

Oliver’s lip curled up just the tiniest bit. “I already cancelled it. They’re not coming.”

 

“Oh…” Felicity said, scrambling for another solution.

 

Oliver threw his leg over the bike and mounted it. When she didn’t follow suit he looked at her. “Are you planning to walk to the photoshoot?”

 

With an inward groan, she quickly took the proffered helmet from his hands and scrambled to put it on without knocking her glasses askew. Once done, she gingerly made her way over to him.

 

“Um, how do I?”

 

“Just throw your leg over,” Oliver instructed.

 

She did, with the gracefulness of a wild boar in high heels. By the time she was seated behind Oliver, she was grateful for the helmet for hiding her heated cheeks. The only thing she had to pat herself on the back for was forgoing skirts today, having chosen a simple pair of jeans instead. She couldn’t imagine how impossible it would’ve been if she’d been wearing a skirt or dress.

 

“You’re going to have to hang on tight,” Oliver said, pulling her arms around his waist.

 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she retorted without thinking.

 

Felicity was glad once more for the helmet obscuring her furious blush. She could feel Oliver stiffen for a second and she sensed rather than saw him smile. Without saying a word, Oliver revved the engine, earning a yelp from her, and off they flew.

 

xxx

 

There were groups of screaming fans to greet them at the photoshoot location. The problem was, they weren’t hers.

 

Just as Oliver rolled his motorcycle to the curb, a limo pulled up behind them. Felicity turned her head and watched as Isabel Rochev, in all her glory, stepped out of the car to the screams of her undying fans. Isabel had been Felicity’s runner-up. Barry told her that Isabel had signed on with Wilson Music Entertainment after the announcement about Felicity's win. People ate that up. They loved the idea of a rivalry between the two emerging artists and Isabel seemed intent on giving the people what they wanted. She shot Felicity a glare before attending to her fans.

 

“How does she even walk in that,” Felicity muttered under her breath as she took in the rival artist’s five inch stiletto heels. Isabel was donning large sunglasses that would make Felicity look bug-eyed if she’d wore them, but on Isabel looked utterly glamorous.

 

Tearing her eyes away from the brunette bombshell, Felicity immediately regretted agreeing to shove her head inside a motorcycle helmet and tried to futilely run a hand through her hair to shake it out. She glanced over at Oliver and saw that somehow he’d managed to avoid any semblance of helmet hair. Instead he came off as ruggedly handsome with his scruff, leather jacket, and helmet tucked under his arm. She caught a few of Isabel’s fans looking his way. She couldn’t really blame them.

 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Oliver said, completely ignoring the pandemonium going on beside them. He seemed completely unfazed as he started walking towards the door, leaving Felicity no other option than to follow. She didn’t miss Isabel’s subtle stare following them as they entered the building.

 

The twisting in her stomach should’ve been a hint that this photoshoot was going to be a disaster. Especially if Isabel was doing hers at the same place, same time.

  
xxx

 

The photoshoot, as predicted, goes horribly.

 

The stylist has her hair up in a side ponytail that makes her feel like she’s eleven, and they have her wearing a retro orange dress that clashes terribly with her hair.

 

“We’re going for the Ingrid Michaelson look,” they told her.

 

She felt like kid playing dress up more than anything. It translated in the photos they took of her, in the forced way she smiled. Like she knew she’s a total fraud. Give her a guitar and she’d sing like the best of 'em, she was confident about that. But put her in front of a camera? Utter disaster.

 

She’s sweating at the end of it all and she can tell from the photographer’s perpetual frown that all the shots are terrible. Her stylist doesn’t know quite what to do with her. They already tried a few wardrobe changes, but nothing helped the stiffness in Felicity’s spine. She was now donning a leather jacket, her hair loose around her shoulders. She was supposed to look like a badass. She felt anything but.

 

To make matters worse Isabel had finished her photoshoot early, probably nailing it on her first try, and was watching Felicity screw up hers with the smuggest smile on her lips. It’s been years since they’ve seen each other, but it felt like high school again. Felicity had been hoping that when Isabel moved to New York in the 11th grade, it would be the last time they’d run into each other.

 

“Let’s take a break for a second,” the photographer said. Felicity caught him trying not to wince as he looked through the shots he just took of her.

 

Disaster. Felicity had caught Isabel trying to talk to Oliver while she was getting her shots done, but he seemed rather tacit with her so now Isabel has moved on to flirting with the photographer, who seemed much more receptive by the way he laughed as she twirled her hair.

 

The break over all too soon and for crazy reason the photographer still wants to take more photos. He barely got in a snap in when Oliver came barreling in from wherever he was during the break.

 

“This is not going to work,” he said.

 

Felicity felt all of her muscles go taunt as Oliver shoved the photographer aside and approached her. This was it. Her music career ended before it even started. She shut her eyes as he stopped in front of her, unable to even look at him and willing tears to not stream down her face. Not in front of Isabel. Not in front of everybody.

 

And then with one swift move, Oliver took off Felicity’s glasses. Her eyes shot open as he snapped his finger for Roy to bring over a guitar to him. He placed it into her hands and she tried hard not to shiver when his fingers brushed over hers. Felicity took the guitar from him a little uncertainly.

 

He took a step back and almost smiled, touching his finger to his lip. Always almost smiles with him. It made her feel inadequate, but she liked it better than the broody scowls he usually wore. She wondered how it would be if he tried smiling for real, the kind that went from ear to ear. It must change his entire face.

 

“Better,” he declared. “Now play something.”

 

Felicity snapped her head up, his demand thrusting her out of her thoughts. “What?”

 

“Play something,” he repeated, his tone bordering on impatient. As if catching himself, the stern corners of his mouth softened for a second and he said, “Pretend we’re in the studio. Play something. Anything you like.”

 

“Umm, but aren’t we supposed to be taking photos? Also, I’m like totally blind without my glasses so-”

 

“You don’t need them to play,” he replied.

 

She squinted and tried to make out the photographer from over his shoulder, but Oliver turned her face away, back towards him.

 

“Don’t look at him. Don’t look at anyone.”

 

“Okay, well I’m kinda looking at you right now so should I be like averting my eyes or-” She knew she was babbling so she was kind of happy when he interjected.

 

“Just… _play_ ,” he urged. “Don’t pay any attention to the camera.”

 

“Okay,” she said. “Okay…”

 

She closed her eyes for a moment, fighting against her self-consciousness, the tightness in her chest. She looked up and without her glasses she couldn’t make anyone’s face, anyone’s but Oliver’s. She held his gaze for a second and then released a breath.

 

She dropped her gaze and began testing out a few strings. Felicity didn't know why she suddenly she thought of her mother, thought of the song that some old singer used to sing, the one that her mother always made Felicity turn off whenever it came on the radio, but that Felicity secretly loved. She didn't know why this song is the one that popped first in her head, but Oliver said play anything so she went with it.

 

_Well, I came home_

_Like a stone_

_And I fell heavy into your arms_

 

She shut her eyes, rocked softly to the familiar melody. Felt it settle around her shoulders like an old blanket.

 

_*These days of dust_

_Which we've known_

_Will blow away with this new sun_

 

She looked up again and met Oliver’s eyes. Again, the almost smile. It was like he was challenging her to make it full.

 

_But I'll kneel down,_

_Wait for now_

She felt her voice grow strong, more confidant with every verse.

 

_And I'll kneel down,_

_Know my ground_

 

She shut her eyes one more, let the chorus come out like a hymn.

 

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait for you_

 

When Felicity finished her song, the entire room is silent.

 

The energy she felt while singing had dissipated and she felt eyes on her once more. “Was that bad?” Felicity asked, glancing around. She was still a bit disoriented by her vision. A red blur bobbed toward her and handed her her glasses. Once she put them on, she recognized the red blur to be Roy and she thanked him.

 

“That was great,” Roy assured her.

 

“That was amazing!” The photographer exclaimed from behind Roy.

 

Felicity turned her head to see the photographer smiling widely. He was already at his laptop, uploading the photos he had took of her while she was singing. Felicity carefully returned the guitar to Roy and wandered over to look over the photographer’s shoulder.

 

“It’s a bit more candid than my usual work, but these shots turned out great. I think we can wrap for today.”

 

“Oh!” Felicity’s mouth slowly turned upwards. “Okay.”

 

Felicity glanced around and noticed that Oliver was gone. As was Isabel. She had been so distracted with the new photos that she didn’t notice either of them leaving. She shrugged off the gnawing thought of Isabel trying to poach her music producer and wandered over to the dressing room to change out of her clothes.

 

Just before she pushed open the door to the dressing room, she heard some muffled voices from the other side. The door was open just a crack so she could make out the words if she stayed completely still.

 

“You can’t keep avoiding me, you know.”

 

“Not if you keep following me, I can’t.” Felicity recognized Oliver’s acerbic tone with a start.

 

“Would you rather I be Felicity Smoak? Following your heels like a puppy dog?”

 

Felicity’s hair rose. Isabel had always grated on her nerves, but she didn’t appreciate being talked about behind her back. Especially with her album producer. She was normally not an eavesdropper, but she couldn’t help it when it seemed to concern her.

 

“It’s rare to see you so threatened, Isabel. That only tells me Felicity Smoak is a whole lot more than meets the eye.” Felicity felt rather than saw Oliver’s smirk. “How do you two know each other anyway?”

 

Felicity could hear Isabel scoffing on the other side. “She was a band geek back when I was experimenting with public school. She’d always been kind of pathetic, but I guess she sings well enough.”

 

“Good enough to beat you,” Oliver pointed out.

 

Before Felicity could hear Isabel’s retort Roy was calling her name from down the hall.

 

“Hey, Felicity,” Roy’s voice called out loudly.  “I forgot to tell you-”

 

Before Felicity could adequately motion for him to shut up, Isabel threw open the dressing room door, nearly knocking Felicity against the wall.

 

Isabel gave her a withering glare, but didn’t say a thing, sashaying away before anyone else could react.

 

“Did I miss something?” Roy’s eyebrow was raised in a perplexed expression.

 

Felicity opened and closed her mouth, not sure how to say she had been inadvertently spying on her musical rival and producer when Oliver came out of the room.

 

“What’s going on, Roy?” he asked, his tone indicating nothing out of the ordinary.

 

A smile spread over Roy’s face, replacing his earlier confusion. “Felicity's trending,” he said proudly before producing his cellphone for them to view. One of the stylist assistants had recorded her playing and uploaded it to youtube. It already had a quarter million views.

 

“Wow,” she said softly.

 

“Wow indeed,” Oliver’s voice came from over her shoulder.

 

She whirled her head around to face him, but didn’t realize how close he was and their noses almost touched, making her back up suddenly.Oliver stood up straighter, looking amused at her reaction.

 

“So, Ms. Smoak. Are you ready to be famous?”

 

Felicity tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but it seemed to be happening anyway. She balled her hands into fists at her side and stared him right in the eyes.

 

“Yeah,” she said, her tone firm. “I am.”

 

Again, that almost smile appeared and just as quickly disappeared, like flotsam in the waves.

 

His next word made a shiver run down her spine.

 

“Good.”

 

xxxxxxxxxx

*Based on the I Will Wait cover by Julia Harriman (Originally sung by Mumford and Sons). Check it out here! [_youtu.be/QqUR4QDTpTg_](http://youtu.be/QqUR4QDTpTg)

 


	5. The Interview

_"There you are! I've been trying to find you for hours. I called Laurel but she wouldn't tell me where you were. Did something happen between the two of you?"_

 

_"Go away, Tommy." Oliver tried to shove Tommy away but his hand slipped and he nearly fell over. Tommy caught him before he hit the tiles._

 

_"No way. We're getting you home." Tommy was obstinate._

 

_He half carried Oliver outside to the parking lot where Oliver parked his convertible._

 

_"Where are your keys?" Tommy tried to reach for Oliver's pockets, but Oliver shoved him, hard enough that he fell backwards._

 

_Without saying a word, whether it be drunken rambling or an apology, Oliver got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. That got Tommy quickly on his feet._

 

_"Hey! Give me the keys, Ollie. You can't do that, man!"_

 

_Oliver was already revving the engine. Before he managed to speed away, he recalled the car sinking a little as Tommy jumped into the backseat._

 

Oliver had woke up in sweat drenched sheets and a pounding migraine behind his eyes. He ran out of pills for the past four days and Sara has been reluctant to prescribe him anymore. The insomnia and the nightmares were not helping his mood any.

 

The entire company was in a frenzy after the video of Felicity playing exploded on the internet. There was a rather manic tension in the air and Oliver felt like it was feeding his internal beast. He felt the vein above his left eye twitch and couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. He was restless.

 

Across from him, on the other side of the glass, Felicity was sitting a little stiffly in her seat, her pose rigid even as she hugged the guitar in her lap. They were already on their fifth take.

 

The first take had a feedback issue. After barking at the techs to fix it they had tried again. The second take, one of the band members messed up, earning an earful from Oliver. When they tried a third time, one of the strings on Felicity’s guitar snapped. Everyone was touchy by the fourth take and he could tell. It wasn’t working.

 

“Let’s try this one more time,” Oliver spoke into the intercom.

 

He could see Felicity’s shoulders tensing, but she nodded. A frown creased her brows as she began strumming the strings.

 

_*Shadows settle on the place, that you left._

_Our minds are troubled by the emptiness._

_Destroy the middle, it's a waste of time._

_From the perfect start to the finish line._

 

Felicity nodded a little, getting into the rhythm of the song.

 

_And if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones._

 

Images of contorted metal flashed through Oliver’s mind.

 

_'Cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs._

 

He shut his eyes. The scent of smoke and copper filled his nostrils…

 

_Setting fire to our insides for fun_

_Collecting names of the lovers that went wrong_

_The lovers that went wrong._

 

Laurel’s face. The accusing glare that seemed to bore a hole right through him. Oliver snapped his eyes open.

 

_And if you're still bleeding, you're-_

 

Oliver shook his head and shouted, “Stop!”

 

Felicity’s fingers strummed the wrong string, the discordant sound vibrated through the room, making everyone wince. They all turned to look at him and he could feel his pulse rising, hear his pounding heartbeat in his ears.

 

“You’re still too stiff. Do it again.”

 

Beside him, Diggle placed a hand on his shoulder. He’d been watching for long enough. “Oliver, don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

 

“Not if we want this debut album to release in time. Let’s do it again. From the top people!”

 

Diggle met Felicity’s strained face across the glass and placed his hand gently on Oliver’s shoulder.

 

“We’re still on schedule, I think we should all take a break. It’s no use running everyone ragged until then. Come on. Let’s take ten.”

 

Oliver clenched his fists, but finally relented. “Fine. Ten minutes,” he barked.

 

He was the first one out of the room.

 

xxx

 

At Oliver’s announcement of a break, Felicity’s shoulders relaxed and she tipped her head back, running a hand over her sore neck. She’d been feeling burnt out for the past few days. Oliver was usually prickly, but he was being a downright tyrant as of late. He had casted a spell of utter misery in the studio, barking at everyone for the tiniest mistakes. Felicity knew perfectionism, but this felt extreme.

 

Even though they were neighbors, she almost never saw him outside of work. Considering how cranky he’d been for the past week, Felicity had been glad to have not run into him in the elevators or anything. It almost seemed like the guy that offered her the ride on his bike was a completely different person. Felicity shook her head. She didn’t want to waste any more of her break time contemplating what made Oliver Queen tick.

 

She made her way over to the crafts table to find something to soothe her sore throat only to find all the water was gone. She very much wanted to put her head through the wall right then and there. Just before she could go through with it, Diggle called out her name.

 

“Hey,” Diggle said, startling her. He held out a bottle of water to her. “How are you doing?”

 

Felicity took the proffered bottle from him gratefully and gulped down half the contents before handing it back. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

 

“How do you think I’m doing?” Felicity said miserably. “I’m just… he is _so_ freaking frustrating!” she nearly screamed. “It’s like nothing I do pleases him. He’s impossible!”

 

Diggle laughed. “He doesn’t show it well, but believe me… he’s impressed. You wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t.”

 

Felicity sighed and nodded her head. Just as she was about to smile at Diggle, Oliver came bursting back into the control room.

 

“Come on, people! Back to work! I don’t have all day!” Oliver barked from the other room.

 

Felicity gave Digg a look and he chuckled softly.

 

“Just hang in there, kiddo.” Diggle slugged her gently on the chin and Felicity laughed. “He’s an acquired taste.”

 

Felicity groaned as she headed back to the recording booth, but after Diggle’s little pep talk, she felt better about it.

 

Oliver had his hands on his hips as he waited for her to pull her guitar strap over her shoulders.

 

“From the top!”

 

She coughed before raising her hand.

 

“This isn’t elementary school, Ms. Smoak. Speak up.”

 

Her cheeks instantly colored, but she soldiered on. “I was wondering if we could do a different song? Change things up a bit?”

 

Oliver heaved a big sigh as if this was all an inconvenience to him, but he eventually said, “Fine.”

 

Felicity tried to smile even though she felt like she really wanted to smack him. “I was thinking something a little bit more fun.” And without asking for any more permission, she started playing.

 

_**Baby, can’t you see_

_I’m calling_

_A guy like you_

_Should wear a warning_

_It’s dangerous_

_I’m fallin’_

 

The band had picked up on her cue and began playing her back up.

 

_There’s no escape_

_I can’t wait_

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

_You’re dangerous_

_I’m lovin’ it_

 

She looked up and saw Oliver’s stern mouth soften just the tiniest bit and it felt like a victory. She could feel the energy pulsing in her fingertips.

 

_With a taste of your lips_

_I’m on a ride_

_You're toxic I'm slipping under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I’m addicted to you_

_Don’t you know that you’re toxic_

 

She shut her eyes, felt a smile pull her lips as the last words left her tongue.

 

_And I love what you do_

_Don’t you know that you’re toxic_

 

When she finished, the band members actually clapped. Suddenly it felt like the tension that had permeated the room the entire morning evaporated. For the first time in the past few days, Felicity felt like she could breathe again. She looked up, across the glass, and met Oliver’s eyes. He didn't’ say a word, but he nodded once. Just one nod, but it was enough to break the spell. The rest of the session goes smoothly after that.

 

xxx

 

When they wrapped up Roy started ushering her toward the dressing room. She still had an interview to do and apparently that involved a wardrobe change and make up.

 

“For the photos,” Roy supplied. “Also you look a little wrecked. Might want to add some concealer under those eyes.”

 

Felicity reached up to touch the bags she knew were sagging beneath her eyes. “Thanks,” Felicity drawled. “You always know just what to say to make me feel pretty.”

 

The assistant smirked. “Hurry up, before the boss starts barking again. This is your first interview. Gotta look alive.”

 

Felicity groaned. Her stomach was starting to feel the flutters. She knew it was part of the business, but she hated the whole process. She just wanted to sing. Everything else was distraction.

 

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t bother knocking when she threw open the door to the dressing room and got an eyeful of one very shirtless Oliver Queen.

 

“Oh! Sorry!” Felicity immediately spun around and covered her eyes with her hands, but it was too late. The image of his six packs had already been ingrained in her mind. “I didn’t know anyone else was changing in here. I didn’t see anything I promise.”

 

“I’m almost done,” Oliver replied, his calm a direct foil to Felicity’s sputtering.

 

“I should’ve knocked. Sorry! I was just, Roy was going on about the interview. It’s my first interview you know, and I’m kind of nervous. And I just wasn’t thinking or well I guess I was thinking too much that I wasn’t thinking. That sounds weird, but it makes sense in my head and anyways I didn’t think to knock. I wasn’t trying to-”

 

She flinched, stopping midstream of her babbling, when a pair of warm hands rested against her shoulders. Slowly they turned her around.

 

“You can open your eyes now,” Oliver said softly. She didn’t realize she was still shutting her eyes tight.

 

Slowly, with much embarrassment, Felicity opened one eye and met Oliver’s amused expression, his head cocked slightly to the side. She blinked and took him in his newly pressed, form fitting grey suit and found it was only marginally easier looking at him when he was dressed as it was when he was not wearing any at all.

 

“Oh good, you’re clothed,” she blurted out. “Not that you looked bad unclothed. You looked pretty good actually. I mean that objectively of course. Though I didn’t expect the tattoos, but really you make it work.”

 

Oliver’s lips twitched as he regarded her. “I thought you said you didn’t see anything.”

 

Felicity caught her bottom lip in her teeth. She could feel her whole body warming. She attempted to swallow the rock that had formed in her throat and tried again to not put her foot in her mouth. Before she could, however, Oliver beat her to the punch.

 

“You should get changed,” Oliver said, glancing down at his watch, releasing her shoulders. “We better get going soon.”

 

“Y-yeah, okay.”

 

Oliver’s shoulder brushed against her as he walked past and Felicity only realized she was tense after he was gone. She shook her head to clear the inappropriate thoughts she was having about her boss. Music. She just had to focus on the music.

 

“Oh and Felicity?”

 

She whirled around at face Oliver. This time there was most definitely a smirk gracing his lips.

 

“I’m glad you liked what you saw.”

 

And then he sauntered off, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just turned her entire insides into jello.

 

xxx

 

Despite her embarrassing run in with Oliver in the dressing room, everything leading up to the interview went well as far as first interviews went. It was as if the last few days didn’t even happen. Oliver was suddenly pleasant and polite. They’d taken some photos of together and she managed to get through it without Roy running to go fetch a guitar to keep her sane.

 

Oliver now sat a little off to the side in one of the chairs with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The reporter had requested that they both be present for the interview and Felicity was kind of glad for his familiar presence. It helped anchor her. A tether for the butterflies in her stomach.

 

They went through several easy questions, such as where she was from, how long she has been singing, et cetera. Oliver hadn’t glared at her yet so she thought she was doing a bang up job.

 

“Were you surprised by the way your video took off? You were already growing fans on the indie stage before you signed on with Queen Records right?” the interviewer asked.

 

“Well, I did a few gigs with my best friend, Barry, but nothing really serious. We were just having fun. The video that won the contest, I actually had no idea he was planning to upload it. So yeah, it was really a surprise to find out how much people liked it. It was really great. Though it made me really wish I combed my hair better that day.”

 

The interviewer chuckled a bit at that.

 

“So, how did it feel to find out that the Oliver Queen would be producing your album?”

 

“Honestly I was waiting for someone to pinch me,” Felicity replied with a laugh. “It was such a surprise. I kept thinking that running into Big Foot would be less shocking than finding out that I’d be working with Oliver Queen.”

 

“Big Foot?” the interviewer said with a smile. “Perhaps we should check Oliver’s shoe size.”

 

“Well, you know what they say about men with big feet.” Felicity slapped her hand to her mouth the moment the words left her lips. She’d been doing so well. “I didn’t mean that! I’m sorry. Have I mentioned this is my first interview? I’m really rather nervous.”

 

The interviewer laughed and shook his head. “It’s okay, I appreciate the candidness. Shall we take a look at your foot, Mr. Queen?”

 

Felicity quickly glanced at Oliver, whose usually broody glare was replaced with a wry amused expression, and colored slightly.

 

“I prefer to keep my shoes on, thanks,” Oliver replied.

 

“Fair enough,” the interviewer said. “Now, Oliver, how does it feel to be back in the business?”

 

Oliver, who had been silent this entire time, leaned forward.

 

“It’s been good,” he replied sparsely.

 

The interviewer waited a beat, but Oliver didn’t say more. Coughing awkwardly the interviewer glanced down at his notepad and flipped through a few pages.

 

“It’s been a long time since you’ve left hasn’t it? Five years?”

 

“That’s correct.”

 

“You know, many in the industry are still curious as to why you decided to retire so early. You had a promising career ahead of you. I know that with the death of your songwriting partner, Tommy Merly-”

 

“I believe this interview is supposed to be about Ms. Smoak, is it not? If so my early retirement and Tommy Merlyn has nothing to do with her,” Oliver said sharply.

 

Tension filled the room like a heavy fog. Felicity fidgeted in her seat and twisted her hands.

 

“Well then, here’s a question,” the interviewer said, crossing his legs. His eyes flashed with stubborn gleam. “Why did you choose Ms. Smoak? I heard that a majority of the execs were poised to choose Isabel Rochev over her as the contest winner, but you overrode them.”

 

This was news to Felicity and she couldn’t help but whirl to face Oliver, eyes wide. His face was still unreadable, but she could see his jaw clenching, just the tiniest bit.

 

“We were narrowing the candidates down to the top ten. Isabel had been one of the favorites… but none of them possessed the same quality as Ms. Smoak did.”

 

The interviewer was leaning forward in his seat now. “Oh? And what quality was that?”

 

Oliver turned and met Felicity’s gaze then. “Raw emotion.”

 

Felicity blinked at him, her mouth opening just the slightest.

 

“The other artists were talented, Isabel Rochev in particular has expert technical control. But no one sang the way Ms. Smoak did. She could conjure ghosts with her voice. When you hear her, you feel as if she’s reaching into the depths of your soul, into the darkest crevices of your emotions. The other artists didn’t do that. They sang, but they didn’t feel. Felicity Smoak sings with all her heart and that’s the difference. If you don’t believe it then wait for her performance. She’ll deliver. That’s a promise.”

 

Silence permeated the air. This was the first time Oliver had said so much about her, so candidly.

 

“Wow,” the interviewer said. “That’s pretty high praise there, Mr. Queen.”

 

“You asked me a question, I simply answered,” he replied stoically. “Now,” Oliver glanced down at his watch and uncrossed his legs, getting up. Felicity quickly followed suit. “We have another appointment to get to. I believe you have enough for your interview.” He doesn’t wait for the interviewer to respond before he started heading towards the door, Felicity muttered a quick thanks before filing after him.

 

When they got to the lobby, Oliver was walking so quickly Felicity felt like she was one step away from sprawling all over the floor in her heels trying to catch up.

 

“Hey! Wait a second, will you?”

 

Oliver stopped abruptly, making Felicity nearly run face first into him. He reached out to steady her.

 

“Thanks,” she muttered, trying to stand more steadily on her own two feet.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t want my debut artist to go break a leg or anything. Literally speaking.”

 

“No,” Felicity said, shaking her head. “Not for that. Although, yes. Thanks for preventing me from eating marble.”

 

Oliver quirked his eyebrow at her.

 

“I meant thanks for saying what you said in there. At the interview.”

 

Oliver stood a little straighter and regarded her. “I only spoke the truth.”

 

“Well, you never said so before. It was nice to hear.”

 

Oliver smiled and it completely transformed his face.

 

“You’re welcome, Ms. Smoak.”

 

Felicity shook her head, looking away.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” she replied, perhaps a tad too quickly.

 

Oliver’s smile disappeared and he gave her a look, the kind that said he was going to be stubborn.

 

With a sigh, Felicity looked him in the eye again. “Look, I’m not an idiot. I know that there’s more to you than being Mr. Grouchface-”

 

“Grouchface? I dont’ have a-” Oliver interjected.

 

Felicity ignored him and continued, “You’re an amazing producer, there’s no denying that. And I just… Well sometimes you’re kind of an asshole,” she said bluntly. Before he got a chance to retort and before she lost her nerve, she kept going, “Sometimes you go out of your way to help me out like that thing with the photoshoot the other day and then this morning nothing I did was right. It was like I ran over your dog or something. And then in the dressing room and then now in that interview, I don’t know. I mean, you’re just sending some really mixed signals. If you have a problem with me, then just say it! I want to make sure this album works out. If you hate me or something-”

 

Oliver stomach curdled at the thought of her thinking that he hated her. He didn’t hate her. Not at all. In fact he actually _likes_ her. And maybe that was adding to the problem.

 

“I don’t hate you,” he said softly.

 

Felicity frowned. “What is it then?”

 

Oliver sighed and dropped his gaze. “You remind me too much of somebody.”

 

“Oh,” she said. After a moment she added, “Is it Tommy Merlyn that I remind you of?” When she saw how he flinched at the name she quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy. It’s just… well, you hear things. You don’t have to answer if you-”

 

Oliver met her eyes this time. “Yes.”

 

Felicity nodded, finally understanding. “I know he was your best friend… it must have been hard to lose him.”

 

“It was,” Oliver replied.

 

Felicity twisted her hands together. Now she felt like an ass. “I’m sorry if I… if I ever triggered you or anything. I really didn’t mean to.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Is there anything I’ve done in particular that reminded you of him? If you tell me I promise that I’ll stop. I just do and say things sometimes. I don’t even know why. It’s like I don’t have a censor or something and I tend to babble. Like right now. Please stop me anytime you want.”

 

His lips quirked, just the tiniest bit, at that. “No. I don’t want you to tiptoe around me,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “None of this should be your problem and quite frankly… I need to learn to get over it. Just… be yourself.”

 

He placed his hands on her shoulders and Felicity was startled by how warm they felt, even through the fabric of her shirt. His hands radiated with heat and the warmth spread down her arms, all the way to her fingers.

 

“I think you’ve had a long enough day. Thank you for the hard work. I’ll see you the same time tomorrow at the studio,” he said, almost mechanically.

 

Felicity simply nodded and Oliver started to walk away.

 

“Hey, wait a second!”

 

Oliver stopped mid step and turned slightly to look at Felicity over his shoulder.

 

“One more thing…” Felicity caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “Will you please just call me Felicity? Ms. Smoak just sounds so formal.”

 

Oliver paused and then slowly nodded.

 

“Okay…” she said, suddenly feeling self-conscious for no reason.

 

Just as she was turning to head to the car waiting for her outside, she heard him say, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Felicity.”

  
And just from the way his voice curled around her name, it made her shiver.

 

\------

**A/N:** I must say part of the fun in writing this fic is sharing these songs and covers with you all. Do check them out! =) Hope you enjoy the music. Also, please leave a comment or review if you liked the chapter! And I’m always open to song recs that remind you of Olicity.

*Youth - Daughter (Cover by Lilly)[ youtu.be /S1VIkQNrcqo](http://youtu.be/S1VIkQNrcqo)

** Toxic (Britney Spears)- jayme dee cover [youtu.be /y_O7hRuhoP0](http://youtu.be/y_O7hRuhoP0)

 


	6. Family Affairs

**Chapter Five: Family Affairs**

 

Thea Queen showed up on a Friday morning like a whirlwind, without any previous announcement. “Mom would’ve stopped me if she knew,” was her response to Oliver’s astonished, “I wasn’t expecting you!” The mention of the Queen matriarch made Oliver’s smile diminish just as quickly as it appeared and Thea quickly threw her arms around her brother’s shoulders to make up for it.

 

“I missed you, Big Bro,” she said, the sound muffled by the tight hug she was giving him.

 

“It’s really good to see you, Speedy,” he replied into her hair, feeling tension slip out of his body. It’s been too long since he’d seen his sister. Much too long.

 

He dropped everything to spend the day with her. It’s been awhile since she’d been in L.A. so they hit all the top touristy places along with a few off the beaten path that were his personal favorites.

 

“So how is London?” he asked over dinner. Thea was currently studying business abroad at the behest of their parents.

 

“Gray and rainy,” was Thea’s succinct reply.

 

There was something about the way Thea bottled up whenever he asked her about school, the way her shoulders stiffened, but she wouldn’t budge on the subject despite Oliver’s careful prying.

 

“Okay, so what next?” Thea said, quickly changing the subject.

 

“What next?” Oliver said, eyebrow quirked.

 

“Yeah. I mean… this is L.A. There’s gotta be something happening tonight.”

 

“I thought you’d be tired from your flight.”

 

Thea shook her head. “Come on, Ollie. Let’s paint this city red. What happened to my party animal brother?”

 

Oliver looked at her and his look said _you-know-what-happened_. Thea’s face fell in the wake of his silence.She reached out and clasped his hand across the table.

 

“Ollie… it’s been five years. Tommy is not going to hate you for wanting to live a little.”

 

The frown doesn’t disappear from Oliver’s face and Thea could feel her brother’s hand stiffen in her grip just as his eyes drop down to the table.

 

“Oliver, please?” She couldn’t stand to see her once vibrant brother, her idol and protector, retreat into himself.

 

Oliver looked up and met Thea’s pleading eyes. He looked away and said under his breath, “My assistant is DJing at a club tonight. We could go there.”

 

“Great!” Thea said, clapping her hands together.

 

Her excitement almost made the stone in Oliver’s chest dissolve.

 

The club’s bouncer let them in without even batting an eye. He recognized Oliver on sight and if the whispers and murmurs as they bypassed the line was any indication, so did a lot of other people. Oliver was starting to regret it. He hadn’t been out and about in a long time, keeping to his room most nights, and felt himself tensing under the stares. It had been different before. He used to relish the attention. Now they made him want to shrink away. Their eyes and whispers like accusations. With his luck, he’ll be finding some of his pictures in the tabloids tomorrow.

 

Oliver’s trepidation didn’t seem to dampen Thea’s mood. She has on a bright wide smile on her face and Oliver told himself that as long as she was happy, he could suck it up for one night.

 

The club is already hopping, the dance floor filled to the brim. Bass vibrated the walls and the floor underneath their feet. Oliver felt his whole body hum with the music and has to squint when the occasional strobe light flashed in his eyes.

 

“So the DJ up there in the red hood is your assistant?” Thea asked, nodding to the beat. “He’s not bad.”

 

“Yeah,” Oliver replied. This was actually his first time he ever came to see Roy DJ and a pang of guilt stabbed him in the chest. He’d been slacking in the mentor department. The kid was good.

 

“Hey, I thought your assistant was a dude.”

 

“He is,” Oliver replied.

 

“Then who’s that on stage?”

 

Oliver followed Thea’s gaze, squinting at the red hooded figure behind the turntables. Just as the bass dropped, the spotlight hit the DJ’s face. It was for the briefest moment, but it was enough to illuminate the tell-tale glasses, perched crookedly on her nose.

 

_Felicity Smoak._

 

xxx

 

A few minutes after the song ended, Roy came up to him and clapped him the shoulders.

 

“Hey, boss! Didn’t expect you to come out. We’re all over at the table in the corner if you want to join us.”

 

“Yeah, thanks,” Oliver replied. “I’m just showing my sister around town.”

 

Thea shoved past him and extended her hand out to Roy. “Thea Queen,” she said.

 

“Roy Harper,” he replied.

 

Oliver didn’t like the way her eyes glinted or the way Roy was smiling back. Oliver casually stepped forward, breaking their contact.

 

“Anyways, I think we’re gonna head out soon. Thea’s really tired from her flight from London.”

 

“No way!” Thea protested. “I’m not tired at all.” And without another word, she grabbed Roy’s hand and dragged him towards the table in the corner. Oliver didn’t bother to suppress his groan; the pounding music stole it away as soon as he uttered it. Not that Thea would have cared either way.

 

Several of the Queen Records music crew was there. Oliver nodded to them in acknowledgement and their rose their glasses to him. At the table Roy poured some drinks and handed them both a shot.

 

“Cheers?” he said, holding his own up.

 

Thea glanced at him quickly. Oliver didn’t miss the concern that flashed in her eyes. Just before she could protest on his behalf, made up some excuse why he wasn’t drinking, he raised his shot up.

 

“Cheers,” he replied, more stiffly than he intended, as he clinked his shot glass against Thea’s and Roy’s.

 

The haunted look fell from Thea’s face and a smile quickly replaced it. “Cheers!” Thea replied enthusiastically.

 

It’s his first drink in a long time and the tequila burned all the way down. Several more and he stops noticing it. He could feel his muscles loosening. Thea and Roy were engaged in an intense debate about the virtues of dubstep and Oliver thinks he should be concerned about how closely Thea is leaning in towards his assistant, but the thought is erased from his mind the moment Felicity comes bounding towards them.

 

“Hey, hi,” Felicity said, a little out of breath. Her cheeks were rosy and there’s a shy smile on her face. She was wearing Roy’s hoodie over her black dress and was playing with the strings. He didn’t realize Felicity and Roy had been buddying up. Something about the younger man's jacket covering her shoulders bothered him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He blamed the alcohol for making his head muddled. He’d lost his tolerance after not drinking for so long.

 

Noticing his stare she said, “Roy thought the hoodie would be a good idea. So people don’t recognize me,” she explained.

 

“Hi,” Thea said, a little too loudly. Oliver hadn’t been counting the number of shots his sister took, but he’s sure by now it’s more than the fingers on one hand. “I’m Thea!”

 

“My sister,” Oliver explained.

 

“Oh!” Felicity said. “Nice to meet you. I didn’t know Oliver had a sister. I’m Felicity by the way.”

 

“My brother doesn’t like to brag,” Thea drawled with a smirk.

 

“Ha. Ha.” Oliver replied humorlessly.

 

Thea grinned and lightly punched Oliver on the shoulder.

 

“By the way, you were really awesome up there,” Thea said.

 

“Isn’t she?” Roy shot Felicity an _I-Told-You-So_ look.

 

“I didn’t know that was one of your talents,” Oliver said evenly.

 

Felicity simply shrugged. “It’s not… but I like playing with the sound programs on my laptop sometimes,” she replied, as if it was no big deal.

 

Oliver regarded her with a bit more awe.

 

“This girl is a freaking genius,” Roy brags to Thea.

 

“Stop,” Felicity said, nudging Roy and casting her shy gaze up at Oliver.

 

“Stop playing coy. You can play nearly every instrument, you sing, and DJ… I’d hate you if you were my friend,” Roy countered. “I mean, is there even anything you _can’t_ do?”

 

“I can’t roll my tongue,” she replied enthusiastically and stuck her tongue out to demonstrate. After twisting it back and forth she sighed, hands on hips. “See?”

 

Oliver couldn’t help himself. He laughed. The sound bubbled forth from the pit of his stomach unbidden. It was brief, but he couldn’t stop it.

 

They were all staring at him.

 

“Dude… that’s like… the first time I’ve ever seen you laugh,” Roy said quietly. “I mean, Diggle told me it’s happened before, but I never believed him.”

 

“It's because it only happens like every hundred years or so on a full moon,” quipped Thea.

 

Felicity was grinning at Roy’s and Thea’s joke and suddenly Oliver felt self-conscious.

 

Oliver cleared his throat and went back to business mode. “Anyway, it’s fine to have fun, but don’t get too carried away. I want to see you in that recording booth bright and early tomorrow morning. We have an eleven o’clock appointment with Interview and before that you’ll need to get to your stylist and get your hair done.”

 

“Yes, boss.” Felicity was still grinning and she saluted him military style.

 

“Well, I better get back up there,” Roy said. “I’ll see you in the morning, boss, Felicity.” He lingered a little with Thea. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Queen.”

 

“Likewise,” Thea replied, bottom lip caught between her teeth.

 

Oliver did not like the looks of this and he quickly shooed Roy away. Felicity waved goodbye as Roy took off back towards the DJ stage.

 

With Roy gone, Felicity turned to them, shy once more. “Well, I better head back home soon. Like Oliver said, bright and early tomorrow.” She glanced around, looking for her ride, Marsha from the sound engineering department. Marsha was most likely making out with some dude in a corner somewhere and totally forgotten about her. “If… I can find my ride…”

 

“No, no, no,” Thea whined, taking Felicity by the arm. “Dance with me. Just one song. I haven’t even had a chance to hear Roy DJ yet! We can take you home later. Please?”

 

“I shouldn't-” Felicity began.

 

“Go on,” Oliver said, cutting in. “I wouldn’t want you to be going home alone at this hour anyways. There are probably reporters out there.”

 

Felicity hesitated for a moment longer before allowing Thea to tow her towards the dance floor.

 

xxx

 

By the time Oliver called a cab, Thea was drunk and Felicity groggy and both were stumbling. It was hard keeping up with his baby sister. Somehow he got them both into the car without any mishaps or cameras going off.

 

Thea immediately passed out the moment she got into the car. Just as Oliver turned to help Felicity in he noticed that she was standing straighter and looking much more sober than he remembered her looking.

 

She smiled at him as she slid in beside the slumbering Thea without any assistance.

 

"Sorry for the drunk act. Thea didn't seem like she would let me go home until I was hammered," she said with a shrug. "Your sister can really handle a lot of alcohol for such a little person." There was an air of wistfulness and admiration in her voice.

 

"Have you been sober this entire time?" he asked, a thread of amazement slipping into his voice.

 

"Oh, I'm definitely buzzed," she replied with an innocent smile.

 

Oliver regarded her for another second before shutting the door and giving directions to the driver.

 

"I didn't realize acting was also in your repertoire."

 

"It's not, but sometimes it's easier to play the dumb blonde. It used to get me more tips as a cocktail waitress that way."

 

Oliver raised his eyebrow at her.

 

"Vegas, remember? Everyone has bills to pay."

 

Oliver cocked his head to the side, accessing her. "Somehow I can't imagine you in a tight sequin miniskirt serving drinks."

 

"What _do_ you imagine me in then?"

 

Oliver blinked and felt his face warming. Felicity quickly amended herself.

 

"Not that that you ever think of me in anything at all. Wait! That was worse. I meant you don't think of clothes."  

 

He felt the corners of his mouth pulling upwards. She was somehow inexplicably adorable when she babbled.

 

"I'm not doing this right. My mouth is doing that thing where it runs off again. You can stop me any time you know."

 

He chuckled softly.

 

"Huh," Felicity said, her babbling replaced with a thoughtful little smile.

 

"What?"

 

Felicity pointed to his face. "That's like...the second time I've ever heard you laugh. In one night no less. Not that I'm counting or anything," she said quickly. "But it looks good on you. The smile, I mean. You should keep doing it."

 

Felicity glanced over at the slumbering Thea.

 

"It must be her." Felicity turned to Oliver. "You really love your sister, huh?"

 

"She's the best family I have." Oliver replied. He stared down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them. "I don't get along with my parents very much. My mother... She's a very controlling woman. And I don't think I was ever anything she expected. It throws her off. Drives her crazy. It drives _me_ crazy too sometimes, but in a different way. I used to party a lot just to piss her off. And then..." Oliver trailed off.

 

"and then Tommy?" Felicity finished for him.

 

Oliver nodded, looking down at his lap once more, hands in fists. "Yeah, and then Tommy."

 

Everything always led back to Tommy. Oliver was starting to get tired of seeing ghosts, but they were everywhere.

 

"For what it's worth..." Felicity began after a heavy pause, "Your partying days generated some of my favorite top hits. Like really. I mean how could anyone resist the poetry of ‘I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it’? Pure genius."

 

Her response took him by surprise and Oliver let out a laugh. "Oh god. Why do you know that? We were pretty drunk and probably more when we wrote that one. I was surprised the studio actually convinced somebody to sing it."

 

“Because it was sexy and they knew it,” she retorted.

 

The memory of Tommy in a silly afro wig flashed through his head. They truly had been drunk that night. Tommy had somehow talked him into wearing leather leopard pants. They could barely look at Laurel in the eye when she found them hung over in the recording room looking like that. She didn’t believe them when Tommy proclaimed the song was gonna be a national hit. He shook his head, grinning at the memory.

 

Felicity grinned. "That's four," Felicity said, indicating his smile. "You're on a roll tonight."

 

The memories faded, but Oliver’s smile stayed. "Yeah. I am. Must be something in the air."

 

They smiled at each other for a little while longer before noticing that they had already arrived. Thea was even already awake and was pushing her side of the door open.

 

“Are you guys coming?” Thea said with a yawn, outside on the curb.

 

They quickly filed outside. Felicity sporting a slight pinkness to her cheeks when Oliver took her hand to help her out. Oliver paid the driver, tipping him generously and then they walked together into the building towards the elevator.

 

When the elevator dinged opened on Felicity's floor, she wished them both a good night and made her way towards her room. Oliver watched as she went.

 

Noticing his gaze, Thea elbowed him in the ribs. “She’s cute. No wonder you’ve been working overtime,” she teased.

 

“Stop,” Oliver said, giving his sister an eye roll.

 

"I'm just saying. That was the first time I heard you talk about Tommy with a smile on your face."

 

Oliver shot his sister a look. "You were awake?"

 

Thea just shrugged, crossing her arms as she leaned back against the elevator wall. She didn't say anything more, but there was a little smirk on her face.

 

Oliver looked up and caught sight of Felicity just as the elevator doors were closing. She shot him a sleepy smile and he tried hard not to remember how warm she had felt as she leaned against his shoulder in the backseat of the taxi cab. He turned away and told himself it was the shots of tequila that made his heart race.

 

xxx

 

A morning meeting with other music execs meant Oliver wouldn’t see Felicity until at least later that afternoon. He found himself both grateful and disappointed by that fact and wholly unsure of what to make of his new feelings.

 

“Oliver?” Diggle’s voice called from the front of the room.

 

Oliver snapped his head up, his thoughts had been drifting. Diggle gave him a look which made him feel guilty. He was still CEO, he had to remember to play the part. The other execs were being very forgiving given his long absence and out of respect for his father’s wishes, but he knew he’d have to step up if he wanted their respect.

 

“What do you think of the idea of pairing Felicity with one of our male artists? Marketing thinks doing a duet with a more established artist may help increase her popularity.”

 

Oliver nodded slowly. He wasn’t particularly keen on the idea, feeling suddenly possessive over his debut artist, but what Diggle said had merit. Considering Felicity’s target audience was largely that of the female demographic, a duet could help with the promotion of her album.

 

“Who were you thinking of?”

 

Diggle turned back to his powerpoint and clicked to the next slide. “Marketing came up with several candidates, but we think Ray Palmer is probably the best person to pair up with Felicity. Their music styles are compatible and Ray has been popular with the ladies. I think if we can get Felicity to open one of his shows that’ll help her branch out to a larger audience.” Turning he said, “What do you think, Shado? You’re the one producing him.”

 

“That should work. He has a concert in a month here in L.A. I’ll talk to his manager about it, but it shouldn’t be a problem. They’ve wanted to pair him with a female artist for a while now,” Shado replied, twirling a little in her seat. She gave a wink to Oliver. They both knew how boring these meetings were, they both rather be in the studio.

 

Diggle nodded towards Shado and then threw his glance back at Oliver, “So it’s settled then.”

 

Oliver couldn’t shake the incomprehensible dread in his stomach, but he nodded anyways. The other execs continued on with other items on the agenda and Oliver mostly tuned them out unless his opinion was necessary. The feeling of dread didn’t go away and he felt himself anxious to get back to the studio the entire time.

 

xxx

 

When he finally gets to the studio Felicity is already in the middle of a recording. Felicity’s eyes were downcast so she doesn’t notice him. Roy nodded at him from behind the sound control desk. Oliver quietly took a seat beside his assistant and propped his chin on his knuckles as she watched Felicity rocked back and forth above the piano keys.

 

_*I was left to my own devices_

_Many days fell away with nothing to show_

 

Her voice rang out and he could feel it vibrating him to the bone.

 

_And the walls kept tumbling down_

_In the city that we love_

_Great clouds roll over the hills_

_Bringing darkness from above_

 

Her fingers flew over the keys of the piano, building to a crescendo.

 

_But if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_Nothing changed at all?_

 

Oliver didn’t do it consciously but suddenly he saw Tommy at the same piano. His ghost superimposed over Felicity’s image.

 

_And if you close your eyes,_

_Does it almost feel like_

_You've been here before?_

 

Oliver shut his eyes and saw Tommy laughing at the piano, smiling as he turned to Oliver to ask him what he thought of a piece he wrote. He’d almost forgotten how Tommy looked like laughing. Almost forgotten the mischievous curve of his lips and the crinkle to his eyes. For too long the image of blood and bruises and mangled bones had precede all other memories.

 

_How am I gonna be an optimist about this?_

_How am I gonna be an optimist about this?_

 

Oliver fought against the prickle of tears behind his eyelids. When he opened them he saw that Felicity had noticed him. She gave him a soft smile as she played the last few keys and sang her last notes.

 

_If you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?_

 

Even after she lifted her fingers from the piano, a hum seemed to linger in the room. She cocked her head, a small smile still playing on her face, and Oliver couldn’t help but smile back. It seemed the most intuitive thing to do.

 

“How was that?” she asked.

 

He pressed the intercom button to reply. “Good,” he said, her melody and the memory of Tommy’s laughter still ringing in his ears. “Really good.”

 

She nodded at him and for the first time since Tommy died, the world felt okay again.

 

xxx

 

They finished up the recording and with no booked interviews or photo sessions to follow, Oliver called it a day. Roy had to run off to his DJing gig and so that left the two of them alone. After shutting off the lights to the studio, Oliver escorted Felicity out.

 

“Is Thea still staying with you?” she asked as they walked towards the elevator.

 

Oliver shook his head. “No, she already left on an early morning flight.”

 

Felicity nodded, but there was wistfulness in her voice when she spoke. “That’s too bad. I really liked her.”

 

Oliver smiled; it was starting to feel easier to do so, especially in her presence. “Yeah… I think she liked you, too.” After a moment he said, “She’ll be back soon. Winter vacation probably. In time for your album release.”

 

Felicity merely smiled. The elevator door opened up and they walked in together in comfortable silence.

 

The silence was short lived.

 

Upon reaching the lobby they were greeted by the scene of a storm of reporters and security. A middle aged woman dressed to the nines was in the eye of it. Oliver’s brows wrinkled in confusion, but when he turned to Felicity her expression was that of shocked recognition.

 

“Mom?” Felicity croaked.

 

Suddenly everyone stopped and turned to look at her, silence filling the space between her and her mother for a millisecond before pandemonium cut loose.

 

Oliver stepped in front of the cameras, physically barring the reporters from getting any closer to Felicity. He opened his mouth to take control of the situation when Felicity’s mother beat him to it. Somehow the dainty five foot three woman managed to shove him out of the spotlight and in front of Felicity. She smiled graciously at the crowd of reporters.

 

“Now, now. I’m sure you all want a piece of my daughter… but you’re going to have to get in line.”

 

A reporter shouted, “And who are you?!”

 

Her mother didn’t even bat an eye. “I’m Donna Smoak,” she said. “I’m Felicity’s manager.”

 

All the clamor that followed made the room spin and Oliver had to reach out to steady Felicity before she swayed.

 

“Now if you want anything from her, you’ll have to go through me.” To Felicity, the older woman said, “We can talk about percentages later, dear. And please don’t wear orange again, it makes your hair look awful. Now I just spent a very hectic morning getting here so I’ll be resting at the hotel if you need me.”

 

And without another word, Donna Smoak sauntered out just as quickly as she tornadoed in, leaving chaos trailing behind her.

 

xxxxxx

  
A/N: Big thanks to all you readers. I hope you enjoyed this one; I had a blast writing it. Also as a bonus here’s my favorite dubstep playlist (for the scene when Oliver and Thea arrive at the club and Felicity is DJing): [youtu.be /oRfauJoSLe8](http://youtu.be/oRfauJoSLe8). As always, reviews, comments, and feedback are always appreciated!

*Pompeii - Bastille (Cover by Jasmine Thompson) [youtu.be /M7zVn1AXNI0](http://youtu.be/M7zVn1AXNI0)

 


	7. Duet

**A/N:** So sorry for the lateness of this chapter, RL gets busy sometimes! Before you start, I just wanted to say that I began this chapter before 3x05 came out and we actually met Felicity’s mom. I already had an idea of what her character was before the episode aired, so there will be some slight differences here. Mainly, my version of Donna Smoak is a bit more manipulative, a bit sharper. Though I hope to show that she still VERY much loves her daughter. I REALLY enjoyed Donna on the show and I realized my version is a bit different, but I hope I still do her justice. Happy reading!

 

**Chapter Six: DUET**

 

Donna Smoak was true to her word when she said anyone who wanted anything from Felicity would have to go through her. No matter how grating her mother was on her nerves, Felicity had to admire her for taking up the manager mantel seriously. She got Felicity booked up with interviews, photoshoots, and radio shows all the way up to her album release date. She’d never seen her mother, a well-known flake, to be so focused.

 

The days seemed to fly by and she was getting used to being pranced in front of the cameras without any hand-holding, though she still occasionally put her foot in the mouth.

 

“It’s okay. People find it endearing how awkward you can be. It’s refreshing,” Roy told her.

 

She had rolled her eyes at him, but his words helped calm the butterflies in her stomach. She could fake it well enough, but she still had them. They tended to spring into life whenever Isabel Rochev was nearby.

 

Felicity caught her mother once staring at Isabel from across the photo shoot studio, her lips pursed, fingers tapping her crossed arms.

 

Isabel had approached them earlier that morning to wish Felicity luck on her upcoming live radio recording.

 

“I wish I had time to do those quaint things, but I’ve been booked up with some hair commercials and just can’t seem to find the time.”

 

Patronizing as always, but Felicity had trained herself to let Isabel’s nastiness roll off of her like water on oilskin. That was until her mother spoke up.

 

“That’s the same Isabel girl from your high school, isn’t it?”

 

“That’s the one,” Felicity replied as Isabel sashayed away.

 

Throughout the day, Felicity kept bracing herself for her mother’s admonishing critiques, comparing her debut to the incredible Isabel. Contrary to her expectations… it never came.

 

When Felicity sat down at her radio appointment, her mother whispered in her ear, “You show that Isabel bitch it’s not about how well you look, but how well you _sing_.”

 

And Felicity loved her mom a little bit for that.

 

Her mother was the one who chose the song. It was an oldie, sung by a female country singer that Felicity never quite remembered the name of. But she recognized the melody and she felt the words come naturally as she sang. Almost like the words of an old favorite poem.

 

_*Kiss me out of the bearded barley_

_Nightly, beside the green, green grass_

_Swing, swing, swing the spinning step_

_You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress._

 

Felicity nodded as she played. Surprised when she thought of Oliver as she strummed. Scolded herself mentally for it and found herself doing it again.

 

_Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight_

_Lead me out on the moonlit floor_

_Lift your open hand_

 

She remembered his warm palm on the small of her back on the way home from the club. It seemed so long ago, yet the heat was still there in the memory. She wondered if her mother ever felt that way. If that’s why she’d chosen this song. It wasn’t the type of song she would’ve guessed her flamboyant mother would have picked.

 

_Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance_

_Silver moon's sparkling_

 

Felicity shut her eyes and all she could see was the blue of Oliver’s eyes. She opened them again, sang the last line, letting the memory of Oliver and the musings of her mother’s incomprehensible actions fade with it.

 

_So kiss me_

 

When the radio interview was over she swore she could almost see tears in her mother’s eyes, but when she looked Donna Smoak got back to business as usual.

 

“Great job. Once that song hits the billboards we’ll start seeing some royalties,” Donna grinned.

 

And Felicity remembered that her mother was only in it for her fifteen percent. She convinced herself that any semblance of tears in Donna Smoak’s eyes were just a trick of lighting. Her stubborn mother never cried for anything. Even when Felicity wished that she would. Donna Smoak was not a sentimental person.

 

When they stepped out to meet the car waiting to escort her to her duet test run with Ray Palmer, Felicity was surprised to see Oliver Queen leaning against the side of it.

 

Felicity’s life for the past few weeks had become a whirlwind of activity. She’d been so busy running around town with her mother on her heels that she hadn’t even seen much of Oliver except for the occasional moments when he popped into the studio to discuss song selections. Those moments were always over way too soon, though Felicity couldn’t help, but wonder if he tried to linger, make it last longer than it did. Perhaps that’s just fantasy, but she tells herself he does. Roy’s handling her for the most part as of late. And don’t get her wrong. Felicity’s not complaining, Oliver has a whole label to run after all, but she couldn’t help but miss the attention he had devoted to her at the beginning of it all. To be quite honest, she simply missed _him_.

 

She didn’t realize exactly how much until she saw him walking towards her. She felt herself relaxing in his presence, felt it easier to breathe when he got near.

 

“You sounded great,” Oliver said. She couldn’t’ help but notice that his smile was strained.

 

“Of course she did,” Her mother chimed in. Felicity shot her a look and then turning back to Oliver said, “Thank you.”

 

He nodded once and again she noticed that he was acting a little strange and it made her stomach twist.

 

“What are you doing here? We weren’t expecting you.”

 

“I wanted to be present for your test run with Ray Palmer. Make sure you two are a good match.”

 

Felicity tried to lighten the mood. “It’s just a duet, not an arranged marriage,” she joked.

 

“Hm, now that’s a thought,” her mother said in her cat-ate-the-canary kind of way. Felicity shot her a look and her mother’s grin merely widened as she shrugged. “You never know. I hear he’s single.”

 

Oliver’s stance did not seem to relax.

 

“Well, since you’re here,” Donna addressed Oliver, with her hands on her hips. “I am going to take a much deserved break.” Donna Smoak slid on her sunglasses and kissed Felicity on the cheek. “I need to soak my feet in some bubbles and get a nice rub down from Pierre. That’s my masseuse at the hotel. He really does wonders with all the kinks in my shoulders. I think I need it after running around after you all day.”

 

Felicity was surprised, her meddling mother was actually backing out of her first meeting with Ray Palmer, but she was too grateful for the breather to question it.

 

“Um, yeah. Sure.” Felicity replied, kissing her mother back on her cheek.

 

Donna was gone before Oliver managed to even utter a proper good-bye.

 

“Your mother is quite a tornado,” he muttered as they watched the red taillights on the elder Smoak’s cab disappear around the corner.

 

“Yeah. I’m actually surprised she’s not coming. I thought for sure she’d be trying to get me to hook up with Ray Palmer. She’s been babbling about how he’s the most eligible bachelor in town the past few days.”

 

When Felicity looked up at Oliver she noticed that he was clenching his teeth when he nodded. It made her want to reach out and run her hand along his stubble. She wanted to smooth away the lines of worry that creased on his face. She almost did it too until she stopped herself, hand in mid-lift. She turned away and admonished herself. She really needed to stop fantasizing about her producer and _boss_.

 

“You okay?” Oliver’s frown had creased further, but there was more softness to his shoulders now.

 

She shook her head “I’m fine. Just, a bit nervous about this whole test run I guess.” After a moment she added, “I’m really happy you're here.”

 

Oliver’s smile looked less tense this time around.

 

“Come on,” he said, gesturing with his head. “Let’s go.”

 

xxx

 

They arrived in the middle of one of Ray’s recordings. Shado was at the helm of the sound control desk. She nodded at them as they enter. Her smile did nothing to ease Oliver’s anxiety.

 

Ray was playing the intro on an acoustic guitar, his eyes closed and head bowed.

 

_**Now that she's back in the atmosphere_

_With drops of Jupiter in her hair_

 

Oliver had to admit, he wasn’t bad.

 

Felicity sat down in the seat beside Shado and Oliver crossed his arms as he watched Ray Palmer through the glass.

 

_She acts like summer and walks like rain_

_Reminds me that there's a time to change_

 

Oliver tried not to notice Felicity leaning forward a little in her seat.

 

_Since the return from her stay on the moon_

_She listens like spring and she talks like June_

 

Tried not to notice that she had crossed her leg and the left corner of her mouth twitched just the slightest.

 

_And tell me, did you sail across the sun?_

_Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded_

_And that heaven is overrated?_

 

Tried not to notice that she was impressed.

 

_And tell me, did you fall for a shooting star,_

_One without a permanent scar?_

_And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?_

 

Her mouth parted, just the slightest and Oliver felt his chest constrict as if all the air in the room was suddenly sucked out.

 

Ray finished his song, letting the last words linger in the air for a moment, head still bowed over his guitar. When he glanced up, Oliver didn’t miss a beat. For the moment it took Ray Palmer and Felicity Smoak to lock eyes, Oliver Queen realized that this whole duet business was a very, very bad idea.

 

The applause from the people in the sound studio indicated that they felt differently.

 

Shado leaned forward and spoke into the intercom, “That was great, Ray. I think we got it.”

 

Ray nodded once and smiled before removing his guitar and making his way towards them. Oliver did not miss how Ray’s gaze was still fixated on Felicity. He tried not flinch when he felt Felicity’s skirt brush against him as she stood up.

 

He coughed once to clear his throat and plastered a smile on his face.

 

“Oliver Queen,” he said, proffering Ray his hand. He was secretly pleased that it made Ray break his gaze.

 

“Mr. Queen, it’s so nice to meet you,” Ray replied, taking his hand. “I really appreciate you and your label believing in me and my music.”

 

“Of course, we’re always interested in talented musicians,” Oliver replied robotically. He was donning on his corporate exec mask now.

 

“And this must be…” Ray’s eyes returned to Felicity and once again, Oliver couldn’t help but be hyper aware of her every movement.

 

She pushed her glasses up her face and smile, her eyes crinkling prettily as she took Ray’s hand next.”

 

“I’m Felicity. Smoak. It’s nice to meet you. You were really good in there. Like _really_ good. I didn’t expect you to be so good. Not that I thought you’d be bad! Just like, wow. That was pretty awesome. I’m terrible at compliments.”

 

Ray laughed softly and replied, “Thanks. I hear you’re not so bad yourself.”

 

“She great,” Shado interjected. “We should get you guys into the room together.”

 

“Yes! I’m excited to play with you.” Felicity instantly colored and quickly said, “I mean, make music with you. That also sounded really awkward… Um, sing. Duet-style.”

 

Everybody laughed, but Oliver couldn’t quite feel up to it and merely managed a contrived grin. Without thinking, his hand found the small of Felicity’s back.

 

“Felicity does have a very tight schedule so we should get this over with,” he said. He tried to not over analyze the way her back had stiffened underneath his touch, but he quickly withdrew his hand. He didn’t know what got into him.

 

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Ray replied. If the other man noticed Oliver’s abrasive attitude he did not react. Turning once more to Felicity, Ray said, “I have a new song I’ve been working on… do you want to try and run through it with me?”

 

“You write?” Again, the admiration in Felicity’s tone somehow made Oliver’s lungs clench, he suddenly felt like he was breathing through a straw.

 

Ray rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, but his smile was all confidence. “I like putting the personal touch into my music.”

 

Felicity nodded in agreement and Shado led them back into the recording side of the studio. Oliver stayed on the other side of the glass and folded his arms across his chest.

 

He watched as Ray handed Felicity his music score and lyrics. Fought against the urge to clench his fists as the male musician leaned over Felicity’s shoulder to point out a line somewhere on the paper. Felt sick when he saw Felicity laugh. He didn’t like how close he was getting with his Felicity.

 

_His Felicity._

 

He shook his head to clear the thought from his head. He was being an idiot again.

 

Shado came back and took her seat at the helm once more.

 

“Alright guys. Let’s do this!” she said into the speaker.

 

On the other side, both Felicity and Ray nodded. Ray sat down at the piano and Felicity picked up his guitar, draping the straps over her shoulders. They glanced at each other once and Oliver watched them nod: _1, 2, 3_...

 

Ray smiled as his fingers pressed down on the piano keys.

 

_***You were a child_

_Crawling on your knees toward it_

 

Felicity closed her eyes and nodded her head to the beat as she sang.

 

_Making momma so proud_

_But your voice is too loud_

 

Their voices wove together. There was an easiness to the way Felicity and Ray harmonized. Oliver couldn’t deny that.

 

_We like to watch you laughing_

_You pick the insects off plants_

_No time to think of consequences_

 

They alternated a few verses, never needing a cue. It looked like they’ve been doing this for years. Like they were meant to sing together.

 

_Control yourself_

_Take only what you need from it_

_A family of trees wanting to be haunted_

_Control yourself_

_Take only what you need from it_

_A family of trees wanting to be haunted_

 

“That’s some real chemistry. They’re really good together,” Shado said, watching Oliver’s face.

 

“Yeah…” he replied, his chest ached again. “They are.”

 

Shado’s gaze lasted a tad too long before she returned her attention to the duet.

 

Ray and Felicity sang the final chorus, strummed the last chord, and played the last key. When they were done the room clapped and rang with praise.

 

“I think we got ourselves a closing performance for your upcoming concert, what do you think, Ray?” Shado said over the speakers.

 

“Hell yeah we do.”

 

Somebody clapped Oliver on the shoulder and Oliver selfishly wished that it had all gone badly.

 

Until he saw her.

 

Felicity caught his gaze and when she grinned at him, there was a sparkle in her eyes. He instantly regretted ever wishing anything she did was unsuccessful. He smiled back, best as he could.

 

xxx

 

Oliver was strange on the drive back. He didn’t look at her the entire way to Queen Records HQ. It would be one thing if he was busy, or maybe even pretending to be on his phone or something, but he wasn’t. He was just sitting there, arms crossed tightly across his chest and head decidedly turn away from her. Anything she said was replied in clipped one-worded answers. Not rude per se… but distant. He was sitting less than two feet away from her and the gap could have been an ocean, and just as cold.

 

When the car stopped, Oliver got out first. Felicity quickly scrambled after him.

 

“Hey!” she called out.

 

He didn’t pause in his stride even as they walked through the front lobby doors.

 

“Oliver!”

 

She reached out for him, her hand looping around his arm. He seemed to freeze at her touch and she would’ve been hurt if she wasn’t already angry.

 

“What’s going on with you today?”

 

“Nothing,” he said, his eyes averting from hers. The action only made her angrier.

 

“I’m not going to keep doing this with you, Oliver. I thought we were over this whole hot and cold business. I thought… I thought we were getting somewhere.” What she meant to say was she thought they were starting to be friends. “I’m not going back to you being grumpy and uncommunicative with me. Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen? Was it me? Because if I did something then just say it!  I thought this was a good day. The test run with Ray was a success. You’re supposed to be-”

 

“Happy for you?” Oliver finished.

 

The way he said it made Felicity’s anger deflate.

 

“Well, yes,” she said, softer this time. “Happy for _us_. This had been a team accomplishment. I couldn’t have ever done… any of this without you.”

 

He did look at her this time, though the expression was unreadable. “I’m happy, I am,” Oliver replied.

 

Oliver was not a good liar and Felicity gave him a pointed look which indicated that she didn’t buy it.

 

“I just… I don’t feel right about it.”

 

Felicity furrowed her brow. He wasn’t making any sense.

 

“What? Why?”

 

Oliver shook his head. “No, nevermind. Forget I said anything. I have to get back to work.” He tried to turn away again, but she grabbed his arm one more time.

 

“No, tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

 

“It is,” she insisted. “It’s important. _You’re_ important.”

 

He seemed a little surprised at that. So was she if she was being honest. She thought of what she was saying and the way that he was looking at her and felt horrified at it all. Not for the first time, she had let her mouth run off without thinking.

 

“I mean, your opinion matters to me, Oliver. I care about what you think. You’re my producer. If you think partnering up with Ray Palmer won’t work for my album then-”

 

“No,” he said, his voice near whisper. “That’s… not the problem.”

 

Suddenly she could feel her pulse jump. Felt it throbbing against her throat as Oliver stared at her. Something had shifted in the air and she didn’t quite know what, but it teetered on the edge of… seismic, world changing. Felicity’s eyes drifted towards Oliver’s mouth, mentally tracing the contours of his lips, running over the lines of his jaw, over the stubble. And she realized then that she’d been crushing on him. Full on, moony eyed, doodling his name in the margins of her notebook kind of crushing.

 

God help her. She was crushing on Oliver Queen.

 

He took a step closer to her and she heard herself gasp.

 

“Felicity, I-”

 

“Are you Felicity Smoak?” an older female voice called out.

 

They both turned quickly in the direction of the voice. Both drenched with the cold realization of where they were and who were around them. Felicity doesn’t know if it was Oliver or if it was her who took a step back, but suddenly they weren’t standing so closely anymore and she could feel herself shiver from the loss of his body heat.

 

Felicity swallowed and cleared her throat. “Um, yes. Hi.”

 

The woman looked too old and too well dressed to be one of her fans so she must be a reporter or something. Oliver is always telling her to put on her best face for the media so Felicity smiled and said, “I’m Felicity. Can I help you with-”

 

Before she could even comprehend the fact that the woman was rapidly approaching her, a resounding slap struck Felicity across the face, making her stumble backwards. A pair of hands caught her before she fell.

 

It suddenly felt like being underwater. A buzz had begun to fill her ears. She felt the left side of her cheek heat up. Warm like she’d been sitting out in the sun with her head turned for much too long. The sting didn’t come until later. Nor did the realization that she had just been slapped by a total stranger.

 

“Step back, right now! I’m calling security.”

 

Oliver had put himself between her and the woman. She also deduced that he was probably the one that caught her before she fell from the way he still held her steady with one hand. She didn’t dwell on that fact for very long before her attention was gripped once more by the immaculately dressed woman with the scowl on her face.

 

“You have some nerve to sing that song,” the woman spat, her eyes only for Felicity. She had a bit of a southern drawl, Felicity noticed. “I let that stupid little internet video slide, but you think I don’t know what you’re doing? The nerve to sing his song, _our_ songs. You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do? You think I’d be fine with lawyers knocking on my house? Well you can try, but you won’t get a single cent from me, ya hear? You’re nothing, but a little whore like your mother-”

 

“That’s enough!” Oliver barked.

 

Security had arrived and they surrounded the woman on both sides, taking her by the arm.

 

“Get her off the property and make sure she’s banned from the building,” Oliver commanded, his voice colder and harsher than Felicity had ever heard him, even at his grouchiest.

 

Despite all the hateful things the woman said, she didn’t resist when security began leading her away. Felicity was standing again on her own two feet now, though still dazed at what just happened.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Oliver’s voice was low and soft as he placed his hands on either side of her shoulders. She had been trembling, she hadn’t even noticed.

 

“I… I’m sorry,” she said. “I-I don’t know what that was about, but-”

 

Oliver shushed her, shaking his head. “She was just a crazy person. Don’t let her get to you. I’ll make sure all the security know not to let her in the building again and I’ll make sure you have a bodyguard with you while you’re out.”

 

Despite Oliver’s reassurance, Felicity knew that the woman was _not_ just a crazy person. She had been too well dressed, too polished.

 

_You’re nothing, but a little whore like your mother._

 

And she knew her mom. That meant only one thing.

 

"We'll find out who she is," Oliver reassured her.

 

Felicity shook her head. And as if on cue, Felicity looked up and met her mother’s eyes from across the lobby.

 

“Don’t bother,” Felicity told Oliver.

  
The knowing look in Donna Smoak’s eyes said everything.

 

“Felicity, baby-“ Donna started towards her, but Felicity’s shock had worn off and had been replaced by a new emotion. Rage.

 

“That was her, wasn’t it?” Felicity accused.

 

Her mother didn’t reply, but her stricken look did.

 

“That was my father’s wife.”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

 **A/N II:** As always, here’s the music credits for this chapter! I love sharing these and I’m always open to suggestions. =)

 

* Natalie Lungley - Kiss Me - Sixpence None The Richer Acoustic Cover [youtu.be/ gkf1n8BcjCo](http://youtu.be/gkf1n8BcjCo)

** Train - Drops of Jupiter (Boyce Avenue acoustic cover) [_youtu.be/6_ING1C747Y_](http://youtu.be/6_ING1C747Y)

*** Kids - MGMT (Colin & Caroline cover) [youtu.be/pg2tqtXXC0w](http://youtu.be/pg2tqtXXC0w)

 


	8. It's A Party, It's A War

The morning headlines read: FELICITY SMOAK, ILLEGITIMATE CHILD OF LATE COUNTRY STAR ANTHONY IVO!

 

Felicity didn't get a chance to finish reading the article before Oliver snatched it from her and threw it in the trash. It didn't matter though; she got the gist of it from the few key words she picked up: trailer trash, cocktail waitress, affair. But the one that struck the most of all was his name: Anthony Ivo.

 

Her father.

 

For the longest time Felicity had been consumed with the mystery of her father’s identity. When she was younger she imagined him to be a government spy, doing dangerous work that took him away from home. He was a hero in her child eyes. As she grew older, the image became more jaded. She knew by then that he was more likely to be a deadbeat one night stand than anything heroic. Her mother always took to binge drinking whenever he was brought up and so Felicity learned quickly to not bring him up.

 

She tried to find him once, out of some sort of desperate stupid plan to run away from home. He was supposed to be her ticket out of Vegas. There had to be more to the world than the neon saturated dust bowl of a city, she’d thought. The trip ended prematurely when she got a phone call from the bar her mother worked. Her mother was a mess, but even then Felicity couldn’t abandon her. So she stayed. And she worked her ass off. Soon daydreams of her father got pushed back into the grimy dark recesses of her mind where childhood naivety went to die.

 

Feeling the knots in her stomach now, Felicity realized those daydreams never did die. They sat there dormant, waiting to spring. She felt like a child all over again, clinging to some irrational fairytale.

 

“You should stop reading those articles. They don’t mean anything. Just worry about the album, the concert. Whatever else that’s happening, forget about it,” Oliver told her. He said it casually, as if everything was business as usual. Like everything they were saying about her, all the horribleness, none of it fazed him. “There’s some shuffling in your schedule, but that’s to be expected. We can reschedule a few things, how do you feel about –“

 

“He was singer,” the words came out softly, so low that Oliver almost didn’t catch it.

 

He turned to look at her and he felt his chest clench at the sight of her, eyes red-rimmed and shiny with unshed tears.

 

“He was a singer,” she said again, louder this time.

 

It was a stupid thing to start crying about, but suddenly the blank space where her father’s name used to be could be filled. Anthony Ivo. He was a singer, just like her.

 

Her body seemed to shudder with the knowledge. She had not cried when her mother sat her down and told her everything, leaving no detail left unturned. She had asked for honesty and she got it. Even if it was uglier than she thought. She didn’t even cry when the reporters started banging on their doors. Clamoring her name, shoving photos of Anthony Ivo at her while she tried to make it to the company car, Oliver playing bodyguard and shielding her as best as he could. She didn’t cry on the way to Queen Records headquarters. Not even when her publicist proclaimed it was a hell of a mess and that the negative publicity will most likely damage sales for the album when it released.

 

The truth was her mother was going after the Ivo Estate. And considering how public and popular Anthony Ivo and his wife were, people took offense to the woman, and by extension her daughter, who were tarnishing the image of such a pristine couple. It didn’t help that her mother had a police record for public intoxication and disorderly conduct. It just fueled the media even more. Sins of the mother are sins of the child it seemed.

 

None of that had scratched Felicity beneath the surface. But she cried now, burying her face in her hands with no one but Oliver to bear witness. The sobs wracked her entire body. And her breath heaved with each tear drop. All the pent up frustration, the stress, the shame. It came erupting to the surface.

 

Suddenly she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and when she turned, Oliver’s warm blue gaze met hers. He didn’t say a word, didn’t utter a single sentence of comfort or reassurance, but he drew circles on her skin with his thumb and squeezed her shoulder lightly. He didn’t step closer, but she could feel his entire presence envelope her, letting her know that she wasn’t alone. He was with her.

 

She sucked in a breath and it ended up in hiccup. She clapped her hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Suddenly a laugh bubbled out of her mouth. And unlike the sobbing, the laughter felt like relief. It felt freeing and silly and she’s pretty sure she’s bordering on hysterical, but it doesn’t feel hysterical. It felt… okay.

 

Suddenly all the reasons why she cried in the first place felt far away. Distant and manageable. It was good to let it all out. She wiped her eyes, smearing her mascara on her fingers.

 

“Ugh, I’ve ruined it. I must look a total mess. I’m going to have to do make up all over again. I hate sitting still.” She fidgeted for emphasis.

 

Oliver swiped the back of his finger against her cheek and she stilled instantly. “You look beautiful,” he told her. And despite the relatively short length of time they’ve known one another, she knew him well enough to read in between the lines, to know that when he said she looked beautiful he meant, _I know you’re strong and I know you can get through this._ Because Oliver Queen will suffer no fools and he has not the patience for nonsense. So she believed him.

 

They never did finish their conversation, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. They were okay again. He’s by her side ever since the scandal broke out. Her anchor in the storm. A part of her knew this couldn’t last, he has a whole label to run, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

 

Her phone beeped with a google alert. Yet another article about her newly revealed parentage. She caught the title, “Illegitimate Daughter, Felicity Smoak, Makes a Money Grab From the Ivo Estate!” before Oliver took her phone away from her.

 

“I’m going to need that for other things, you know.”

 

Oliver simply grunted and started moving towards the door, leaving her to follow quickly after him.

 

xxx

 

Felicity went through the motions, got her makeup fixed, went to the studio, practiced with Ray. To his credit, Ray doesn’t say a single thing about the whole mess. He simply looked at her with a kind expression on his face and asked, “Are you okay?” To which she answered with firm nod and they carried on. She was grateful for that. With all the other things falling apart, radio spots cancelled, interviews postponed, she was glad he wasn’t pulling back on their collaboration.

 

Oliver nodded at her from across the glass and she took a deep breath before meeting Ray’s eyes. They were going to do two duets. One for Ray’s album and the other for hers. They would perform both for the upcoming concert and were running through a few different songs to see what stuck. Ray was on the guitar for this one and Felicity wished she had asked for it instead. She suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands. After all the crying, she was filled with the sudden fear that she’d screw this up too.

 

“Ready?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” she replied, hoping that her voice would come out stronger than it did.

 

Ray smiled reassuringly at her and nodded out the countdown.

 

_*Loving can hurt_

_Loving can hurt sometimes_

 

He met her eyes as he strummed and Felicity understood now why his fans always say when he sings it feels like he’s singing to them.

 

_But it's the only thing_

_That I know_

 

She closed her eyes and harmonized with him.

 

_When it gets hard_

_You know it can get hard sometimes_

_It is the only thing that makes us feel alive_

 

She felt the tension dissipate, losing herself to the music, swaying to the sound of Ray’s voice alongside hers.

 

_We keep this love in a photograph_

_We made these memories for ourselves_

_Where our eyes are never closing_

_Hearts are never broken_

_And times are forever frozen still_

 

And then she was singing on her own.

 

_So you can keep me_

_Inside the pocket_

_Of your ripped jeans_

_Holdin' me closer_

_Til our eyes meet_

_You won't ever be alone_

She could feel a smile tug at the corner of her lips. This. She could do this. Only the music mattered. For a moment she had forgotten about that. Everything else didn’t matter, her father, her mother, all the scandal. Music was hers. When she looked up she caught Oliver smiling back at her and suddenly she felt a warmness fill her chest. Oliver had known that all along.

_Wait for me to come home_

The song built up, and Ray was strumming the last piece. Their voices came together a final time.

_When I'm away_

_I will remember how you kissed me_

_Under the lamppost_

_Back on 6th street_

_Hearing you whisper through the phone_

_Wait for me to come home_

 

They’d nailed it on one take.

 

The rest of the recording went smoothly. Felicity felt more razor focused on her album than ever before. She wasn’t going to let something like tabloids and reporters hurt her. She wasn’t going to let the ghost of her father dictate her future.

 

“You did great,” Ray commented.

 

“Thanks,” Felicity replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I appreciate you sharing the studio with me.”

 

Just as they were finishing up, Ray placed his hand on her elbow. “Hey, I know you’re going through a lot… but there’s this party tonight. Would you like to come with me?”

 

Felicity blinked at him, “W-what?”

 

“If you don’t want to, I totally get it,” Ray began when Felicity continued to stare at him like a gaping fish.

 

Felicity quickly shook her head. “No, no. I mean… you _actually_ want to be seen with me in public? Considering everything-”

 

“Considering everything, you are still one of the most talented artists I’ve had the pleasure of working with,” Ray replied smoothly. He flashed her a smile that she was sure was the reason for his legion of adoring female fans. “Come on, you can’t keep hiding from them forever. The longer you hide away the more the media will sprout even worse rumors.”

 

“Are you sure?” Felicity asked again.

 

“Deadly,” Ray replied. “Not… like literally. Because if I was dead I wouldn’t be able to take you and that would make the whole thing moot. But yes. Definitely. That was the better word.”

 

She smiled, glad she wasn’t the only one who tended to get tongue tangled.

 

“I mean… it’s kind of you, but I don’t want to get you in trouble or anything. Maybe you should run it by Shado?”

 

Ray shook his head. “I’d go anywhere anytime with you Felicity Smoak,” Ray said, and Felicity felt her conviction strengthened. There were people who still cared, people who understood her despite the insults and rumors that swirled around. That was good enough for her.

 

“Then I’d love to,” she said, smiling.

 

“Good. Pick you up at eight. It’s a date,” Ray replied casually as he picked up his guitar and headed for the door, leaving Felicity once again staring and gaping in his wake.

 

Her heart raced. A… date? She realized belatedly what agreeing to go to a party with Ray Palmer would mean. Had she really just agreed on a date with him? She had thought he was just being nice. When she peered at him from the other side of the studio glass, he shot her a wink. It was definitely a date.

 

Oliver came in a second later to break her out of her reverie.

 

“That went well. We have a couple of other items on the schedule today that I wanted to go over with you.” He wasn’t looking at her, head bowed over a stack of paper in his hand.

 

“Ray asked me to a party tonight,” she said, still dazed.

 

Oliver immediately stopped fiddling with the music sheets he was holding. He looked at her then though Felicity had yet to look up and meet his gaze.

 

“I see,” he replied with what seemed like an incredibly controlled tone.

 

“I think he was asking me out,” she continued, oblivious to the hitch in Oliver’s pulse.

 

She turned to him then and that’s when she realized what she was saying and to whom. Oliver. Her humongous, totally inappropriate _crush_ Oliver.

 

“I, uh, I told him yes.”

 

Oliver merely nodded. Felicity couldn’t read his expression at all. Then she berated herself for trying. Just because they had that one moment, well maybe not even a moment. Was it a moment if she was the only feeling it? Regardless, whatever she was feeling it was completely one-sided and he was her producer! She closed her eyes and hoped that when she opened them again it would be with clarity.

 

“I think it’s a good idea. Help you get back out there in the public eye. On your own terms,” Oliver said.

 

Felicity’s eyes snapped open. “You do?” She hoped her disappointment wasn’t apparent on her face. God, she needed to squash this crush on Oliver Queen like yesterday.

 

“Yes,” Oliver said with his signature photoshoot quality smile. He placed his hand on her shoulder and Felicity fought against the urge to visibly shudder at the heat of his palm. “Have fun.”

 

And then he left.

 

xxx

 

Oliver didn’t know why he was so upset. Well, to be quite truthful he _knew_ why he was upset, but he didn’t like the reason. Which was just as well.

 

With everything was going on with the whole Anthony Ivo debacle, Oliver hadn’t had the chance to stop and think about what had happened between him and Felicity. Or rather, what almost happened.

 

He had wanted to kiss her.

 

He had wanted to kiss her so much that he was sure that he would have. Right there in the middle of Queen Records hallway. In front of everyone. If they hadn’t been interrupted…

 

 _If’s don’t matter now_ , Oliver told himself.

 

The moment passed. Felicity had needed him, not in that way, in the producer kind of way. It would have been selfish, reckless, and completely idiotic to try and broach the subject of their… moment. Or whatever that was. A momentary lack of blood and oxygen to his brain perhaps.

 

But now she was going to a party with Palmer.

 

Oliver felt the self-berating cycle starting all over again, but he wouldn’t let it. He was going to be happy for her. If Felicity had Ray Palmer backing her, that’ll help get her back in the good graces of the media. She desperately needed it at the moment. Oliver couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of that.

 

He just wished he wasn’t going to that same party.

 

xxx

 

Felicity was nervous. That was an understatement. She was beyond nervous. The camera lights flashing and the reporters chattering away at her didn’t help. She’s just happy she remembered to put on deodorant. Or did she?

 

Before she could change her mind and run back out to the limo waiting out on the curb Ray placed his hand over hers, stilling her anxious fidgeting.

 

“It’s going to be okay,” he said as they smiled and waved at the cameras. “It’s just a party.”

 

Felicity let out an exhale. “Yeah… I know.”

 

Ray turned and smiled at her. He’d been ever the gentleman throughout the whole ordeal. Somehow he magically produced two glasses of champagne and placed one in front of her. “Have I told you that you look amazing yet?”

 

The compliment, or maybe the alcohol – it was probably both – earned a smile from her, a real one. Somehow, without her knowing, they had bypassed all the reporters and were finally at the party itself. No one was flashing any more photos of her. No one was yelling at her to make a comment.

 

Ray started conversation and after a while, it didn’t feel too hard to enjoy herself. Ray was sweet and funny and even sometimes a little awkward. And it was just… _nice_ and easy.

 

Just as she was feeling relaxed and was starting to truly enjoy herself a commotion drew her attention away from Ray’s animated talk about 80s rock and spotted her mother across the room.

 

She met Oliver’s gaze a second after. She could tell from the way his jaw clenched that the evening was about to turn ugly.

 

xxx

 

Other than a polite nod of acknowledgement to the couple when he arrived, Oliver had tried to give Felicity and Ray a wide berth throughout the party. That didn’t mean he didn’t notice them.

 

It had been a long time since he heard Felicity laugh since the start of all the scandal and to hear her do it because of Ray Palmer… Oliver felt himself slip into broodiness again.

 

“Uh oh… you have that look on your face,” Diggle said as he sidled up beside him.

 

“Hey,” Oliver greeted curtly, taking a pull from his scotch on the rocks.

 

“Where’s our little Miss Smoak this evening?”

 

“Over there, with Palmer,” Oliver could barely get the words out.

 

“Ah… that explains it,” Digg said knowingly. Oliver shot him a look. “You forget that you wear your heart on a sleeve, man.”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

Digg just shook his head. There was a sad, almost pitying expression on his face and it rubbed Oliver the wrong way. Sometimes he loved that Digg knew him so well. This was not one of those times.

 

“I had hoped that Felicity Smoak would bring you back out to the real world… help you feel again. But-”

 

“You don’t have to tell me. I know I’m her boss. Her producer. It’s nothing, like I said. She just… reminds me of Tommy sometimes. That’s all.” Oliver drained his glass, but didn’t order another one. He wanted his wits with him. “Besides,” he looked up at Diggle now. “After her album releases, we can assign her a new producer.”

 

Diggle watched him carefully. If anyone can see straight through him, Oliver knew it was John Diggle.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Oliver turned towards Felicity again, across the room chatting excitedly with Ray, and then back at Diggle. “Yeah. I am.”

 

Diggle opened his mouth to speak, but before Oliver could hear what he could say they were interrupted by the sound of two very agitated women.

 

“Oh no.” Oliver had immediately recognized one of the voices and he knew it was trouble.

 

He looked in Felicity’s direction and their eyes met. She had realized the same thing he did. Donna Smoak was in the room and he had better start doing damage control, stat.

 

xxx

 

When Felicity and Oliver arrived at the scene tension was already high in the air. Donna Smoak was squaring off with none other than Magnolia Ivo, otherwise known as Felicity’s late father’s widow.

 

“Who the hell let you in here? I had thought this was going to be a sophisticated party, but if they are letting riffraff like you in then I can’t speak for the taste of this hotel!”

 

“Well if they invited you then their standards were already low,” Donna shot back.

 

Despite Felicity’s attempt to intercept, a soft hand at her mother’s elbow, the women did not back off.

 

“You’ve got some nerve-”

 

“I’m here because of my _daughter_ ,” Donna replied coolly. “If you haven’t heard, she’s become quite the sensation.”

 

The other woman scoffed. “You _and_ your daughter belong in the trailer trash you came from. Just because she sang my song-”

 

“You mean _my_ song?” Donna clarified. “You might have been the one who sung it, but let’s not forget who wrote it.”

 

The smile on the other woman’s face was a vicious sneer. “And yet it was Anthony who gave it to me to sing.” Donna flinched at the name and the woman’s sneer grew wider. “Does it still hurt, Donna? To remember that he chose me over you? Must have really rankled you that he took your precious song and gave it to me. Even worse, that it made us rich. Does that keep you up at night? Knowing that it could’ve been you?”

 

Donna raised her hand, but before it could come down on the other woman Felicity grabbed her mother from behind. “Mom!”

 

“I will NOT let it go! You stole that song from me! You stole my life!” Donna screamed.

 

People were staring now. Felicity could feel the burn of their gazes on her and she felt the tips of her ears color. Worse was Oliver and Ray were there, watching her.

 

“Mom, please!” she hissed, as subtly as she could muster.

 

“Listen to your daughter, Donna. You’re causing a scene,” the other woman drawled. “Of course, you’ve always been an embarrassment. That’s why Anthony left you.”

 

And then she left, sauntering away with her entourage, leaving the mother-daughter pair alone in the spotlight. Felicity wanted to scream back that the woman was wrong. Her mother _wasn’t_ an embarrassment. But at the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to tell another lie. So instead she simply tugged on her mother one more time, and said, “Come on, mom… let’s go.”

 

Both Oliver and Ray motioned toward her, but she shook her head at the both of them. They’d witness enough. She wouldn’t be able to bear it if they saw any more.

 

“I’m sorry to cut our date short, Ray, but I got to go. I have to take my mother home.”

 

Ray nodded and Oliver proffered her his valet ticket. “Take my car. My driver will get you both wherever you need to go.”

 

Felicity gratefully took the ticket. When their fingers touched, she felt too mortified to feel butterflies in her stomach. She didn’t even notice his burning gaze as she walked away.

 

xxx

 

Mother and daughter didn’t say a single word to one another the entire car ride to Felicity’s apartment. It had become clear that her mother was intoxicated. Wasted was perhaps a more accurate term. Felicity couldn’t bear to drop her off at her hotel room. As it turns out, they barely made it into the lobby of her building.

 

“Let go!” her mother cried, shoving Felicity off her. Felicity lost her grip, but luckily Donna Smoak fell onto one of the lobby sofas. “I don’t need you to manhandle me,” she spat. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you. Just look at you. You’re ashamed of me. I don’t need that. I can do everything myself.”

 

With the party behind them, with the glow of the spotlight gone, Felicity felt her temper rearing up.

 

“Oh, really? Is that why I always had to pick you up from the bar? Why I had to be the one that made sure our water kept running, our bills paid? Is that why I gave up Juilliard for you?” She said that last bit with more anguish than she intended. She had buried that hurt for a long time now. Forgotten it almost. Juilliard. It had been within her grasps once. She had forgiven her mother for that though. Like she had with almost everything. Or at least she thought she had.

 

Apparently not.

 

All of the fury, the indignation, the self-pity, all of it came crashing down around Felicity. Like water breaking free from a dam. It poured around her, filled her up with it.

 

“You never wanted me to sing before so I was surprised when you’d been so supportive lately. Now I understand why. Juilliard costed too much, was too far. Too respectable. You always did want things the get rich fast way didn’t you?” Felicity accused. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? Why you’ve been pushing me so hard to sing those songs? Why you became my _manager_? It was never about me at all. It was about _you_.”

 

Felicity shook her head, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “It was just you wanting to get back at them.”

 

Her mother stood suddenly. “That money belongs to you!” Her mother shouted. “You’re his rightful heir! That woman has stolen everything from me. I won’t let her steal from you too. Your father-”

 

“ _Left_ ,” Felicity finished for her. “He left. I don’t want anything from him.”

 

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Donna retorted. “It’s what you deserve. What _we_ deserve! What is owed us! You’re a stupid girl if you don’t realize all that I’ve done for you. If you let her call you a piece of trash then that’s because you are! Do you know what kind of life I could have had if it weren’t for you? If I wasn’t a pregnant teen trying to make it? I was talented too you know! I gave up everything for you and now you’re not even grateful!”

 

After everything, this last insult felt like a true slap in the face. Felicity felt the tears prickling behind her eyes like hot needles.

 

Before the tears could drop suddenly a large presence was beside her. She turned and Oliver was there.

 

Oliver had immediately called a taxi once Felicity left. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t stomach sticking around the party after what had happened. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on Felicity and her mother’s private conversation, but they were having it in the middle of the lobby of his building. Luckily, at the moment he and Felicity were the only residents.

 

Despite his best intentions, Oliver couldn’t take it; he couldn’t stand by and watch as Felicity clenched her fists at her side, taking the abuse her mother threw at her. Before he knew it he was taking long strides towards her, hand outstretched.

 

Felicity started when his hand made contact with hers, his fingers curling around her wrist. Donna Smoak abruptly stopped mid-rant.

 

“Oliver!” Felicity was staring at him with wide eyes.

 

“If you could refrain from insulting my artist I would appreciate it,” he said harshly, without preamble.

 

“Excuse me!” the older woman spluttered. “But that is my daughter and don’t you dare tell me how I should speak to my own da-”

 

“She is your _daughter_ , but she is _my_ artist.”

 

“I’ll have you know that we already have another label interested in her and so if you don’t show a bit of respect to me I’ll pull her from this company so fast your head will spin!”

 

“Then have your lawyers call my lawyers. But until then,” he held up Felicity’s hand, clasped tightly in his, “She’s mine.”

  
Without another word he marched off, pulling Felicity along with her despite her mother’s screaming protests. The only thought pulsating in his head was that he liked how Felicity’s hand fitted in his.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this fic and continues to read it! I know I’m an unreliable writer. I was really struggling with how to continue this story. I have a vague idea of where I want it to go, but I’ve been really struggling with how to write out the scenes to get the characters to the place I want them to be. I really borrowed a lot of k-drama tropes in this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyways.
> 
>  
> 
> *Check out the cover of Ed Sheeran - Photograph by Tyler Ward & Anna Clendening! https://youtu.be/Mr6ATGYI204


	9. Legacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a shitty, unreliable writer and I’m so sorry for the lack of updates and this precarious state of “is she going to finish this fic or not?!” that I put you guys through. Life and my job have been really hectic and absorbing so I have just not been able to sit and write. So I appreciate everyone who continues to follow this fic and who leaves me encouraging comments (particularly that anon who sent me that lovely message on tumblr). Thank you. I can’t promise I can be more regular, but this chapter… it’s for all of you. I hope you enjoy.

Felicity felt her pulse quicken at Oliver’s touch, her head spinning as he lead her towards the door. The length of the lobby felt like miles and every step of it was like she was walking through water, her head barely afloat.

 

“Felicity, please!” her mother called out from behind her, her voice a stark staccato against the walls of Felicity’s brain, sending ripples and waves. “Don’t leave me…” The last part was a whisper, but Felicity heard it, sharp like a knife in just the right tender place. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please… don’t leave me.”

 

Felicity stopped in her tracks and suddenly she wasn’t where she was anymore. She vaguely registered that Oliver was turning towards her, concern written on his face, but at the moment she was consumed by memory. It was one that she thought she’d buried. It was fuzzy around the edges, but the sounds, the words… those were crystal clear.

 

She doesn’t remember how old she was, but even at her young age she had known what desperation sounded like. It was the sound of her mother chasing after a shadow of a man, a thick envelope clutched in her hands. Even to the younger Felicity she knew something important was happening, something pivotal, even if she wasn’t quite sure what.

 

_“Don’t leave me!”_ her mother had begged.

 

The man did anyways. Afterwards her mother had pulled her into her lap and cried. That was the first time Felicity learned that she hated seeing her mother cry and would do absolutely anything to try and prevent it. She recalled wiping away her mother’s tears sloppily with her toddler hands and telling her mother to not be sad in straightforward, simple innocence. It was the best way a child like her knew how to comfort someone back then. Just tell someone to be happy and they would be. Felicity recalled explaining this to her mother as such.

 

Her mother had hugged her close and whispered in her ear, “I’m not sad, baby. So long as I got you. Baby girl, you’re all I need.”

 

Felicity emerged from the memory with her limbs feeling like jelly and her heart full and heavy. Felicity then knew she couldn’t go. Couldn’t turn back on the woman who, despite her mistakes, despite all the horribleness, had been the one to cook birthday pancakes every year and picked her up from her band practice and took relentless humiliating photos of her at the homecoming dance with Barry. She could not give up on her mother.

 

So she let go of Oliver’s hand.

 

xxx

 

The thing about dramatic walk-offs in the movies is that they assume the heroine goes along with it. Oliver didn’t expect Felicity pulling back as they reached the front doors.

 

“I’m sorry, Oliver,” she said and he could feel his heart beating loudly in his ears. “But I… I can’t just leave her like this.”

 

He watched her carefully as she carefully pried her hand out of his, a loss of what to do, but knowing that if he respected her, he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t force her to go anywhere with him. He had to let her do things on her own. Even if he wished with all his might he could just wrap his arms around her and not let go.

 

Oliver realized belatedly his hand was still outstretched; let it drop back to his side. Felicity, eyes still red-rimmed, but with a fiercer gleam in them now, smiled a strained smile at him.

 

“Thanks for trying to be my knight in shining armor.”

 

She didn’t say it unkindly, but Oliver felt himself flinch. He knew best that he was no knight. And if he had any sort of armor, it was not the shining sort. It was blood stained and battered.

 

“This is between my mother and I… and we,” Felicity turned back to look at her mom who looked quite ready to keel over. “We need to work this out.” She turned back to him with a sheepish shrug. “She’s my family.”

 

And Oliver understood that with bone aching empathy. The dark thought of his own mother crossed his mind like a cloud casting a large shadow. He forced it back with a practiced amount of skill.

 

It took a while for Oliver to find the words to respond, but he did, infusing as much genuine concern and affection as he could into his tone. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

 

She nodded and he let out an exhale. Rubbing his fingers together, a tell that marked his anxiety, he mimicked her nodding. “If you need me…”

 

“I know,” she replied before he could finish.

 

He wondered if she really knew. If she knew the depths he would go for her… She lifted herself up on her tiptoes on placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek, her touch stirring the hair on the back of his neck. When she backed away he noticed only the slightest tinge of pink on her cheeks.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Without anything more to add, she turned from him and walked back to her mother.

 

Felicity softly touched her mother’s arm and the older woman pulled Felicity into a fierce hug, whispering frantic apologies in her ear.

 

“Come on, mom. Let’s go just get you back to your place, okay?” Felicity said gently when Donna managed to surface from her hysteria.

 

More composed now, Donna Smoak went with her daughter. Oliver watched them as they walked past him, went out to the curb, and hailed a cab. He watched them still as the red tail lights disappeared from view.

 

xxx

 

Her mother was mollified enough by the time they arrived that Felicity had minimal difficulty getting her back into her hotel room. She’d fished the hotel card key from her mother’s purse and proceeded to swipe them in, kicking the door open with one foot and balancing her mother’s weight on the other.

 

“Home sweet home,” she said humorlessly. “Let’s get you in bed.”

 

The place was a total mess and Felicity dropped her mother unceremoniously on the bed. The older Smoak was now succumbing to the drowsiness of alcohol and from the looks of her bathroom counter maybe some choice pharmaceuticals. Felicity will have to confront her about that, but it was yet another item on a very long checklist.

 

She cursed loudly as she cracked her knee against a chair that had tipped over, probably from the insane amount of clothes strewn over it, while she was searching for the light switch in the once lavish living area.

 

That’s when she saw it. Buried beneath some random food wrappers and discarded magazines. A battered large yellow envelope sat on the table. It looked like it’s been through hell and back.  

 

It also had Felicity’s name scrawled across it in faded blue ink, worn by multiple creases and stains.

 

Her heart pounded as she picked the envelope up with trembling hands.

 

Looking at the date stamped by the post office the envelope Felicity did the math. The flashback of the man and his retreating back, her mother wails and the memory of her stomach twisting itself as she watched, all of it came back full force into her mind for the second time that night.

 

Why was this here? After all this time...

 

It was already torn open so she simply tipped it and the contents spilled out upon the table: music sheets with scribbled lyrics along the margins, a tape, and a single check that was never cashed.

 

There’s a tape player buried underneath all the mess and with deft fingers she inserted the tape, and with only a moment’s hesitation… pushed play.

 

_*My lover's got humor_

_He’s the giggle at a funeral_

_Knows everybody's disapproval_

_I should've worshipped him sooner_

 

A voice so familiar, so close to her own that it made her shiver, crooned out of the tiny speakers, singing a song that she knew well, has heard on the radio all her life. But it was never sung like this.

 

_Take me to church_

_I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies_

_I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

 

But this was not Anthony Ivo. This was no man at all. Felicity knew this voice with lightning clarity. This voice was that cheered her name when she graduated from high school. This was the voice that slurred over dinner after a 12 hours shift at the bar. This was the voice that used to sing her lullabies to sleep.

 

_If I'm a pagan of the good times_

_My lover's the sunlight_

_To keep the God on my side_

_He demands a sacrifice_

 

Felicity felt her chest constricting, her eyes stung, and she formed fists with her hands that bit half-moons into her palms.

 

_Good God, let me give you my life_

 

The single track ended with a crackle and just as Felicity reached to retrieve the tape a voice called out of the darkness.

 

“You found it.”

 

Felicity turned to face her mother who had not been sleeping, at least not peacefully, after all. She quickly wiped away the evidence of tears from her cheeks.

 

“Why does the envelope have my name on it?” Felicity surprised herself by the calm in her voice.

 

“He meant for you to get it when you were eighteen.” Donna Smoak let out a harsh scoff. “I suppose some part of him actually felt guilty for leaving, for making you grow up without knowing him. And maybe… he wanted you to know the truth because then somebody would hate him properly. I never could despite my best efforts. And he never did have any other children you know. You were… his legacy.”

 

Felicity wanted to spit at the word. _Legacy_. She didn’t want no part of this type of legacy.

 

“I meant… I meant to tell you sooner, but I guess I went about it all wrong.” Her mother’s hoarse voice said through the darkness. Felicity heard her footsteps approaching closer and turned away, avoiding the look on her mother’s face. She stared blankly towards the envelope and the tape with its scandalous contents instead.

 

Without looking, Felicity could hear the scrape of the second chair as Donna pulled it beside her.

 

“When I saw that video of you… singing his song… I just, I just got so angry. All those things that I tried to hide from you, tried to hide from myself, they just came bubbling up and I-” Donna’s voice broke then. “I made a mess of things didn’t I?”

 

Felicity swallowed to keep her voice from shaking. “This song… _all_ of these songs,” her fingers skimmed over the music sheets, the lyrics scrawled on faded, stained paper. “They aren’t really his are they?”

 

Silence answered her, but Felicity didn’t need confirmation either way. She felt it in her blood and the way it boiled underneath her skin. Felt it in the thrumming of the pulse at her temples. Besides, the demo tape was proof enough. The name scribbled on the yellowing label clearly read: Donna Smoak, in what Felicity recognized as her mother’s own writing. The date beside it was at least a year before Anthony Ivo released his single. She knew this because she had obsessively, masochistically, read up on whatever she could find on him after the tabloid revealed his name.

 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? When this whole fiasco first started, why didn’t you just _tell_ me? You made me think you were the bad guy! His _mistress_. Why?”

 

Her mother sighed, her whole body shuddering with it. “I loved him.”

 

Felicity felt rage boiling in her blood. “He was a cheater,” she spat out. “He cheated with you and then left you pregnant to go back to his rich wife. He _stole_ from you. That man wasn’t worth your love. He’s not even worth being a man.”

 

Her mother looked up at her finally and Felicity could see tears glistening in her eyes.

 

“I still loved him anyway,” she said. “And I didn’t… I didn’t want you to hate him. Because how could _I_ hate him when he gave me you?”

 

And that broke Felicity’s heart. She hated her father, hated everything he had put both her and her mother through. Even though he was dead now, Anthony Ivo, was still haunting them.

 

Her mother looked up at her and Felicity finally saw all the lines etching her face, underneath all that makeup and bravado. Saw the years of heartbreak mapped out right there on her skin.

 

“I know the anger you are feeling. And that’s why I was trying to make it up to you. All that money that wretched wife of his is sitting on top of. That should be yours. And I don’t care what they label me as. Fortune Hunter. Gold Digger. Money Slut. I’ll be called whatever I have to, but that… that money belongs to _you_.”

 

Donna was wringing her hands now.

 

“You don’t think I wasn’t ashamed that I couldn’t get you a new band uniform that sophomore year? You think I really didn’t want you to go to Juilliard? You think I didn’t want to give you the world if I could?”

 

Her mother was shaking now, crying, though her voice remained remarkably steady.

 

“I tried to forget it, searched for the answer at the bottom of the bottle,” at this she gestured to the mess around them in the living room, said bottles littering the floor, “I know I was not the world’s best mom. But now I can be. I’ll play the bad guy, but I’ll get you everything that you ever want. Everything you deserve.”

 

This was it, Felicity realized. This was her mother with all her cards on the table. Felicity glanced at the envelope spilling with sheet music and notes and thought how close to literal that was.

 

“Get some sleep,” she commanded, though not with any bite. “I have to go make a call,” she said simply. And then she walked out the door.

 

xxx

 

After leaving her mother’s, Felicity somehow found herself walking all the way back to her own apartment. How she avoided getting mugged was a complete miracle. In fact, she could barely remember getting here until she was opening her own door.

 

Almost immediately she felt claustrophobic in her own room. Her head was buzzing, her muscles aching in a way that seemed to make her skin itch. She needed to get out again, but it wouldn’t do to wander about the city like a crazy person. She wasn’t going to test fate twice that night considering the craziness that had already went down.

 

She opened the door to the balcony. The air was chilly and she had to rub her hands along her arms to stay warm. Glancing upwards she noticed that the light from Oliver’s apartment above hers was off. It made sense; it was nearly 3 am in the morning. She wondered what would have happened if she had left with him tonight. Where would they have gone? Was he there now? Or was he sleeping, like a sane person? Her hand still tingled at the memory of his clasping hers. For the briefest of moments she recalled that odd look that had crossed his face, but filed it away for another time. She had more than enough to think about.

 

She shook her head to try and clear the cob webs. She should probably get some shut eye soon, but her adrenaline was still high. She was clutching and unclutching the phone in her hands.

 

Finally she brought up to her face and dialed. It rang and rang, but no answer. She gave up on the ninth ring and typed her plea out in a text message instead.

 

_Barry, I need you._

_\-- F_

 

She deletes it almost immediately. She knew that Barry was traveling, shooting for his new film project. She didn’t have the right to be selfish and pull him from whatever corner of the world he was in. No. She needed to stop depending on others whenever she hit a rough patch. She needed to do this herself.

 

Steeling herself against the nippy wind for the last time, she turned and made her way back inside.

 

xxx

 

The next morning, after a lot of tossing and turning, Felicity caves and makes a call at 9am. A seemingly innocuous time of day, and yet the ringing of the phone seemed foreboding in her ear. She debated with herself, decisions wavering on a sharp precipice, right up to the point where she’s interrupted by a firm, professional female voice on the other line.

 

“Nelson, Murdock, Lance and Associates, how may I help you?”

 

There was no turning back now.

 

“Could you direct me to Laurel Lance, please? I hear she takes on music infringement cases.”

 

Felicity was done turning the other cheek. She was done letting her mother fight the war. She was ready to strike back.

 

And she was coming for Ivo with absolutely everything she’s got.

 

\---

  
*Kiesza - Take Me To Church (Hozier Cover) <https://youtu.be/kwxIFk3tZSI>


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